


One More Campaign

by kcat1971



Series: Transitions [22]
Category: The West Wing
Genre: Drama & Romance, F/M, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Political Campaigns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:00:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 40
Words: 106,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22633933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kcat1971/pseuds/kcat1971
Summary: The Campaign to Re-elect Matt Santos begins in earnest with the team pulling together in new ways.  Will they learn from their mistakes or fall into the same traps as they have in the past? Do Josh and Matt have what it takes to keeping the Democrats in control of the White House for four more years?
Relationships: Ainsley Hayes/Sam Seaborn, Danny Concannon/C. J. Cregg, Helen Santos/Matt Santos, Josh Lyman/Donna Moss
Series: Transitions [22]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/934860
Comments: 435
Kudos: 143





	1. The State of the Union

Donna and I fall into bed at roughly the same time. It’s kind of weird that this is the thing that I’m thinking about in this moment. I’m still buzzing pretty good from tonight. But I’m not replaying the State of the Union speech in my head, mentally cataloging who stood to applaud at various points. Nor am I thinking through the after-party, wondering if we made all the connections we needed to make. It’s not that I’m not fully aware that this was, in virtually all respects, the official kick off to the re-election. That’s not what I’m thinking about. What I’m thinking about is how nice it is for Donna and I to get into bed at the same moment.

It’s not uncommon for one or the other of us to be up late. Either working or checking on the baby, or whatever. Honestly, it’s usually me. I’ve just never needed a lot of sleep. But tonight, I don’t know, things just felt different.

The house was dark and quiet when we got home. Lulu and Mom have probably been asleep for hours, so we tiptoed quietly in to check on them. Then we discarded our clothing, both happy to be out of the suits we’d spent all day in. I hung everything up while Donna washed her face. And now here we are settling in between the sheets together. In sync. It’s a little moment but it’s filling my soul in a way I’d never expect.

I don’t think I take my life or my family for granted. But then every once in a while something happens that just stops me in my tracks, makes me realize how incredibly lucky I am, and leaves me just a little breathless.

“Josh . . . are you okay?” Donna asks softly.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“It’s just that your face was kind of frozen in an odd way.” She teases a little, using one of her favorite silly phrases. It makes me smile a bit, before I deliver my line.

“Unattractively?”

“Never.” She leans closer and places a gentle kiss on my lips. I wrap my arms around her and pull her closer, kissing her softly a few more times. I know we’re both tired, but I just want her to know how much I love her. 

We kiss slowly for a few minutes. Just little brushes of lips over each other. Nothing urgent. Nothing hurried.

I run my fingers over Donna’s brow and across her eyelids and down her nose, then trace her lips. She sighs softly and I see her drifting off. If I want to have sex, I need to make a move right now, before she’s fully out. But I don’t, I just watch her breathing even out.

I feel contentedness fill my being. This is being passionately in love too. This peacefulness. This fullness of just being with her and holding her in my arms.

Tomorrow there will be work to do. So. much. work. But for tonight, we sleep. I snuggle in a little closer and close my eyes.

. . . . .

When I open my eyes and it’s 6:02, I’m not really surprised. I rarely sleep much later, no matter how late I get to bed. Years of functioning on a small amount of sleep still hasn’t caught up to me. I wonder if someday it will. I hope I don’t just sleep all the time when I’m old.

Now I need to decide what to do with my extra hour. Given last night’s State of the Union, I pushed Senior Staff back to 9:30. Matt figures everyone deserves a little extra rest after a night like that. But knowing my staff, they’ll all be fairly hyped today and ready to get moving on our agenda.

I roll on my side to watch Donna sleep for a bit. She’s a good sleeper. I’m glad Lulu takes after her.

I suppose I could get up and run on the treadmill. But it might wake Mom up, and I don’t want to do that. I’m also not feeling particularly compelled to get up and pull out briefing books.

I feel like I’m at a bit of a crossroads with my life. I’ve accomplished a lot. I’ve helped elect two incredible men to the Presidency and I’ve worked with them to make this world a better place. I know we’re not done yet, so I really need to get to work and get Matt a second term. But if I’m being honest with myself, I’m not really looking forward to this campaign.

I was one of the strongest voices in the room, convincing Matt that we shouldn’t do a big, flashy campaign event announcing that he was seeking re-election. Honestly, we’ve been in re-election mode since the day he was sworn in. And a campaign focused on consistency, trust, and hard work doesn’t need a flashy launch. We just have to convince the voters that the country is on the right course and there is no good reason to shake things up.

Our slogan needs to be “Santos IS THE President!” We can have Toby make the signs.

Toby is definitely going to play a bigger role in this election. It’ll still be unofficial, of course. But I won’t have to call him Bob. And he’ll have some direct access to the President. He and Matt get along surprisingly well. And Miranda and Molly give them a decent amount of cover.

Plus after his space shuttle stunt, Toby has the ear of a whole new crowd of people. He’s got influence in places that Matt, with his military background, wouldn’t be nearly as popular. Inexplicably Toby’s turned into the college professor that students love. Just the right amount of gruffness, just the right amount of sage wisdom, and he bucked the establishment and got away with it, so he’s got street cred. Plus he’s taken to wearing these little jaunty little caps. And sweater vests! He’s completely redefined himself. He’s got the college professor look down.

Lou is doing a great job with our message. She and Edie work really well together. But we’re going to need to bring in some more speech writers for the purely campaign events. I don’t want those sneaking their way on to Sam’s desk. Maybe Toby will help in this area too. And truthfully, Matt does pretty well for himself. Still. The campaign is going to need it’s own speech writing staff. Maybe Otto can head that up.

It’s also going to need a general chairman. A Bruno to my Leo. Too bad Bruno’s not available. He's not my favorite person, but I can't deny that he's good. And I'd rather not have him on the other side. I can’t say I’m fond of Doug either. Maybe Connie? Or Lester or Teddy? I’m not sure if any of them are really ready to step up to the campaign manager level. I'd hate to lose Lou from White House operations, but it maybe something to consider.

Amy sneaks her way into my thoughts as well and I give an involuntary shudder. Then I check myself. Really, it hasn’t been so bad working with Amy this time around. Maybe we’ve both grown up a bit. She’s a good legislative director. She still has an agenda but it’s mostly aligned with Matt’s. When it’s not, he hears her out and makes his decision, which so far, she's given her all to fully implementing. She also has a lot of contacts on the hill. Mostly good. And when they’re not, she’s got Ryan. That kid’s is a politician's politician. He’s playing this game on a whole ‘nother level. He’s still a bit young but he’s ready to step up. If we promote him to LD, that makes Amy an option for campaign manager.

My immediate inclination is to dismiss the idea. I just don’t have a desire to work that closely with her again. But I’m really trying to set my personal feelings aside and look at this objectively. And objectively, she’s on the short list. 

Donna rolls over, blinks a couple of times, and looks at me questioningly. The idea of her managing the campaign flashes through my brain. I bet she could do it. It would be throwing her into the deep end but she’d make it work. She's always been able to get up to speed quickly. 

I think Matt would go for it. It wouldn't bother him that she's never been higher than a spokesperson for a campaign. He's a big fan of Donna's. Not as big as me, but enough. 

But I don’t really want to upset the delicate balance of Helen’s office. The truth is FLOTUS will be doing as much, if not more campaigning than we will. I think I need Donna right where she’s at.

“You’re thinking pretty loudly over there.” Donna murmurs groggily, giving me a sleepy smile, then stretching her arms over her head.

Her shirt rides up showing a bit of bare midriff and all thoughts of the campaign immediately vanish.

I let my hand drift over her smooth skin, testing to see if she's interested in a little morning fun. Her eyebrows quirk up and she gives me a slow sultry look.

Oh yeah, I need Donna right where she's at.

. . . .

While Donna finishes her make-up I join Lulu and Mom in the kitchen.

“Hi Daddy! Hi!” Lulu greets me happily in between shoving pieces of pancake in her mouth.

“Good morning baby doll,” I respond, placing a kiss on the top of her head and keeping my suit a safe distance from her sticky fingers. I turn to my Mother, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Morning, Ma.”

She beams at me then places several pancakes on a plate as I pour a cup of coffee. She hands it to me, and I barely stop from rolling my eyes. It’s way too much food, but it’s her last day with us this month so I’m not going to turn it down.

“Should I make some for Donna?” she asks as she frowns at the amount of batter she has remaining.

“Nah, she’s probably only going to have fruit and yogurt. But I’ll save her one of mine, just in case.”

Mom puts the last pancake on a plate for herself and joins Lulu and I at the table. She reaches across and pats my hand. She doesn’t say anything but I understand. She radiates happiness when she’s here with us. She’s just so pleased that I’ve settled down and that I’m including her in my life.

“All done, Bubbe.” Lulu announces around a mouth of pancake.

“Chew and swallow, please.” Mom tells her.

Lulu nods and finishes. “All done.” She announces again a few moments later.

“What do you say?” I ask her gently. Donna is always reminding me that I have to enforce good manners too.

“I get down, peas.” Lulu responds quickly with a dimpled grin. 

“Good girl. But I need you to wait a few minutes, okay? Let Daddy and Bubbe finish our food too.”

“Ah-kay, Daddy.” She answers. “I can wait. One, two, three, four . . .”

She starts counting to herself in a sing songy voice. It’s too cute to feel annoyed by, so I let it go. At some point, I should probably teach her that waiting patiently doesn’t mean counting the seconds out loud. Although honestly, counting in my head is a tactic I myself use on occasion. I wonder if she’s too young to understand the concept of an imaginary abacus.

“. . . fourteen, sixteen, sevent…”

“Fifteen, sweetie.” I remind her. “Fourteen, fifteen.”

“Fourteen, fifteen.” Lulu repeats after me then stops.

“What comes next?” I ask and she scrunches up her nose adorabley, so I try to remind her where she is in her counting. “Fourteen, fifteen, six---”

“Teen! Seven-teen, eight-teen, nine-teen, TWENTY!”

“Very good, sweetheart!” Mom praises Lulu, getting up to get her out of the high chair. That’s not really as long as I would have liked her to wait, but it’s probably long enough.

Mom almost has Lulu cleaned off when Donna comes into the kitchen.

“MAMA!” Lulu shouts.

“Good morning, angel.” Donna greets her with a kiss as she takes Lulu from Mom. “Are you ready to get dressed?”

“Yes, Mama.”

“I can get her ready, Donna. So you can have some breakfast.” Mom offers, even though she hasn’t finished her own pancakes yet.

“It’s okay. I’ll just take a yogurt with me. I got her.” Donna follows Lulu into her room, leaving Mom and I alone.

“Thanks again for coming up to babysit, Mom.”

“It is my pleasure.” She insists. “Thanks for asking me. So when I can I come next?”

“I’m not sure. I need to check with Margaret.” Mom looks a little startled and I realize that sounded like she was just another appointment to be managed. It also makes me realize I really owe her an apology for the way I barely made any time for her during the Bartlet Administration.

“I’m sorry. That didn’t come out right. Donna and I still need to figure out the campaign schedule. Things are going to start getting crazy, but we won’t let it interfere with spending time with you. I promise you I won’t shut you out again, but I don’t know exactly what the next few months are going to look like yet.”

“It’s okay dear.” She smiles, “just remember, I’m available whenever you need me.”

"Love You, Ma. I WILL call you tonight. We’ll figure it out."


	2. Time to Start

Lulu runs ahead of me into her bedroom and plops down in front of her dollhouse. I smirk a little to myself. I knew that Josh would run out and buy her one as soon as Kate got one from Santa. Still, it’s already provided hours of entertainment, so I’m not complaining. We don’t have a ton of time to play on a work morning, but I’ll give her a little bit while I lay out two outfits for her to choose from.

After a few minutes, I gently call to her. “Time to get dressed, baby doll.” 

Lulu pauses for a minute and looks at me. I wonder if she’s going to be contrary today. Not surprisingly, she’s become a fairly opinionated two year old. And just when I got her father past that stage! But she actually puts the doll down and answers sweetly.

“Ahkay, Mama.”

I’m even more relieved as she quickly sheds her pajamas and deposits them in the hamper.

“Good girl, Lulu!” I praise her for taking care of them without being told. It’s something I’ve had to spend quite a bit of time teaching my favorite Lymans. Lulu caught on faster than her Dad at that little chore.

Just when I think it will be a fairly easy morning, Lulu runs out of the room naked.

“I go potty!” She yells as I chase her into the bathroom. I’m really pleased when she makes it in time. She grins at me when she’s done.

“Wow, Lulu. Good job. You’re such a big girl! Let’s wash up now.”

We sing a little song as we clean up and wash her hands. And I spend a few minutes just enjoying Mommyhood. Lulu’s been doing a very good job telling us when she has to go. And it seems like her diaper is only wet after naptime, if at all. Josh bought her some adorable underwear from Gymboree last week for once she’s potty trained. I really need to pick a weekend and get to it.

When we get back to her room, Lulu picks the long sleeve pink shirt that proclaims “I love Daddy” with a leopard print heart. She points to the pink pants with a kitten on the cuff to go with it. I thought she might pick the fluffy leopard print pants, but I should never underestimate the power of a kitten.

I grab a diaper off the changing table and turn to pick Lulu up so that I can put it on her, but she backs away and shrieks “NO MAMA!!”

As I look at her in shock, I hear the sound of Josh running down the hall.

“I wear undies!” Lulu tells me in top volume.

Josh bursts into the room to see his naked daughter standing with her arms crossed giving me a glare. But when she sees him, the glare turns into a pout and pleading eyes.

“Daddy! I wear undies now. Peas.”

Josh looks at me helplessly.

“I don’t know.” I admit. We haven’t even really started potty training. I’ve read a book about it and it suggested keeping the kid mostly naked and giving them lots to drink for a whole weekend. I’m not sure it’s a good idea to leave the house without a diaper on. On the other hand, there is a lot of talk about readiness, and if she’s ready I don’t want to discourage her.

“We could pack extra clothes.” He suggests to me as he scoots down to her level. “Lulu, if you wear undies you have to go pee-pee in the potty every time. Do you understand?”

She nods emphatically. “Yes, Daddy.”

“You have to tell Nicole as soon as you need to go potty.” He continues, emphasizing his point.

She nods again.

“Ahkay. He agrees as he moves to the dresser and fishes the new undies out to the top drawer. “Butterflies or flowers?”

“Kitties?” Lulu asks. 

“Nope. Flowers or butterflies.” Josh reasserts, showing her the choices.

“Flowers!” She declares pointing. Josh hands the other two pair off to me, then helps her step into the ones she chose.

“We’d better get more of these.” He murmurs. “And we’d better get another potty too. We’ll have to take ours with us today. We can leave it there and stop and get a new one on the way home.”

As he finishes getting Lulu dressed, I head to the bathroom to get the potty ready. I guess we’re officially potty training. I should have known that Josh Lyman’s daughter wouldn’t do it by the book.

With Josh getting Lulu dressed it’s not long before we are ready to head out the door. Mom hugs all of us tightly before we go, promising Lulu more big girl panties the next time she visits. It’s always a little hard saying goodbye knowing that she won’t be there when we get home. This time it’s even harder because we don’t have a date for her next visit already on the calendar.

I think I’m going to hold everyone’s feet to the fire this week. Now that the State of the Union is over, we HAVE to start thinking about the campaign. I’ve got a bunch of invitations for Helen that I think would make excellent opportunities to get our message out. Women are the reason Matt won the last election, and they are going to bring us a second term. But this time Helen is our secret weapon. 

I’ve spent the last three years grooming her into a force to be reckoned with. Her agenda lines up perfectly with Matt’s without being simply duplicative. She’s become a powerhouse speaker. And she’s attractive. I refuse to focus on the ephemeral but I have to acknowledge that it doesn’t hurt. The public loves her. Newspapers, magazines, and television, everyone wants an interview. Everyone wants a photo.

We’ll take every advantage we can get.

While Josh spends the car ride reading to Lulu, I spend it strategizing. It’s time to get this show on the road. I’ve got a lot of work to do. When we arrive at the Residence, Josh kisses Lulu, then me, before heading towards the West Wing.

“BYE DADDY!” She calls after him and he turns back to give her a big,dimpled smile and another wave. Then she takes my hand as we make our way upstairs.

The reusable sack with her potty in it bangs against my leg the whole way up the stairs, making me wish we’d taken the elevator. But Lulu likes climbing the stairs on her own. She holds careful onto the railing, like Josh taught her, and counts each step as she goes. It’s good practice for her.

When we get to the third floor, I’m faced with the dilemma of where to put the potty. There are bathrooms in both the game room and our bedroom. Those are the two rooms, along with the greenhouse, are where Lulu spends most of her time. 

I settle on the game room, where Lulu is already hanging up her coat on a little hook, while chattering at Nicole. Helen and Nicole have really gone all out in here with an art area, a dramatic play area, a toy area including a little slide, and of course a reading nook. They’ve really turned it into her own private little preschool

The thought occurs to me again of the idea that Helen and I have kicked around to open a staff daycare in the OEOB. I really do like the idea. It would be great for morale to have such convenient child care. But it’s not really a policy initiative for the whole country, and right now my focus HAS to be on those. Maybe next term.

“I have UNDIES!” Lulu informs Nicole as soon as she’s done hanging up her coat.

“Wow!” Nicole responds with a smile. “You’re a big girl now. You’ll tell me when you need to go potty, right?”

“YES!” Lulu agrees.

Nicole looks at me for more information. “Sorry to spring this on you, but she was pretty insistent this morning, so . . . “ I shrug a little and hold up the bag. “I brought her potty.”

‘This is great, Donna.” Nicole assures me. “Lulu’s almost all the way there already. It’s going to be fine. There may be a few accidents but it’s totally normal. We’ve got this.”

I love Nicole’s enthusiasm. This is one of the reasons we hired her. She has lots of experience and a great attitude. I know Lulu is in good hands.

“Okay, thanks.” I tell Nicole as I walk over to the corner where Lulu is playing with a baby doll.

“See my baby, Mama?” She asks holding the dolly up.

“Yes, that’s a sweet baby. What’s her name?”

“Little brother.” She surprises me with her quick answer.

“Oh really?” I manage to squeak out.

“Lulu needs a little brother.” She tells me in all seriousness. I wonder which of our parents I have to thank for this little scene.

“Well, maybe someday.” I offer with a smile and a little kiss. When I stand up I see that Nicole is barely keeping from laughing.

“I take it that wasn’t an announcement?” She asks curiously.

“Oh, no!” I respond. “I think that was grandparental influence. I think we disappointed all three sets when we didn’t have anything to say at Christmas. We’d like another, but things are crazy right now, so who knows when it will happen.”

“No pressure, right?” She teases.

“Right.” I laugh as I roll my eyes. No pressure in my life at all. “ All right have a great day. I’ll see you at 5.” I wave to Lulu as I leave the room. “Love you sweetie, have fun with Nicole.

. . . . .

Once I’m back in my office and looking at my calendar and the stack of invitations we have for Helen to speak, I realize I really do have to make an appointment with Josh. I need to coordinate with the campaign to make the best choices and I need to see a message calendar to make sure we are on task.

I mean, I can line most of this up with the State of the Union. And really, that was an outline of our agenda, but there’s more to it than that. There are going to be talking points and slogans and sound bites that we want to repeat. There is so much more that goes into a campaign that just a goal. We need a vision.

I know that he doesn’t want to have a Manchester moment. He wasn’t completely on board with the idea 7 years ago when Jed did it. Like he said, “it trades away one of the things going for you. He’s already the President.” 

Plus, Matt doesn’t have an endless war chest. Sure, he’ll have a lot more funding from the DNC this time, but he’s tried to run a fairly frugal administration. He’s more than willing to spend money on important things. But he doesn’t want to waste money on silly stuff. He has one of the smallest staffs in many years. Helen’s team is even smaller. Neither of them travel unnecessarily. They are very cautious about taking vacations, and when they do they spend most of their time at Camp David, which is the least expensive option for the secret service. He really wants to be the people’s President. He doesn’t want to spend a lot of money to get re-elected. And he doesn’t want to get tagged with the image of working for corporations or high dollar donors. He had a grassroots campaign last time, and we want a repeat of that.

Yes, I really need to talk to Josh. We have so much to do. I’ll have to check with Margaret to see what his schedule is like today. I glance at the time on my computer, there’s only 15 minutes before Senior Staff, I’ll talk to her then. But in the meantime, there’s just enough time to make a list. 


	3. Number 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since it's Presidents Day and I'm wearing my "Bartlet for America" t-shirt. I decided to drop a little bonus chapter.

At 11:30 I’m sitting at my table with a pile of files. Two of them are open and laying side by side. Ultimately it won’t be up to me. But Matt is going to want my recommendation in a half an hour. 

I’ve got a short list, but it’s a surprisingly hard choice, and I’m seriously considering revising it.

I glance at the pile on the floor again. There are some good candidates there too. Some people that will be able to come on board and manage our state-wide offices, a couple of spokesperson options, and definitely some deputies. But I’m pretty sure it’s going to be one of these two taking the lead in the campaign. And whichever one it is, I’m going to be spending a lot of time with.

Margaret knocks on the door as she slowly opens it. “Donna’s here.”

“Donna’s here?” I repeat in confusion. Then I have a moment of panic. Did I forget I had an appointment with her today? She knew that Matt and I planned to work through lunch. Is something wrong?

Before my thoughts can get too far ahead, Margaret eases my mind. “Yeah, she set this up after Senior Staff. You had this blocked off for campaign stuff, so I figured you’d want her.”

“Right as always.” I say to Margaret. “ Send her in.” I flip the files closed and turn the short list over. This is good. I’d really like Donna’s opinion about all this. And I’d like to hear what she’s thinking before I tell her where I’m at.. Let’s just see if we are on the same page. If not, maybe she’ll help me make a decision.

Margaret opens the door wider and Donna strolls through like she owns the place. I alway like to see her like this, full of confidence and ready to run the place. Margaret must too because she grins as she closes the door.

“Hey baby. I’m glad to see you.” I tell her as I stand to move some files off a chair for her to take a seat.

“Hi.” She greets me in return, accepting the kiss on the cheek that I wish could be more. “So, I want to talk about the campaign. We have a lot of invitations that I think would be great opportunities to get our message out. But we need a more specific message. It’s not that I think you guys are dragging your feet, but it’s time to get moving on this, Josh!”

I love it when she’s like this, all fiery and gung ho. She’s amazing. Seeing her like this really tempts me to put her on the top of the short list.

“I agree. That’s what this mess is. I’m meeting with Matt in a half hour to try to get him to finalize the campaign staff. I need to decide who to recommend as campaign manager.”

Donna looks at me in surprise. “Why aren’t you going to do it?”

“Well, aside from Hatch Act considerations, as you know, Chief of Staff is a pretty demanding job and there’s only so many hours in the day. I already feel like I neglect you and Lulu. . . .”

“You don’t, Josh.” She grabs my arm. “Before you go any further, put that out of your mind. You are a phenomenal father and husband. You don’t neglect us, not a bit.”

“Well, okay, thanks, but I worry about it. I already work long days. I can’t add to it.”

“Could Sam do more? And maybe hire a few more assistant deputies?”

“It’s a possibility. But I think Leo set a good example hiring Bruno. It was a good idea to have an outside campaign staff.”

Donna raises an eyebrow. “I think you’re glamorizing it a bit. It drove you all crazy. Toby almost came to blows with Doug.”

“Well, maybe. But it let us do our real jobs. And Leo still had the final say about what the President saw. And he still listened to us. In hindsight I think it was the right thing.”

“Okay, who are you thinking about? Pipeman? Bloom?” She looks off into space, thinking out loud. “Simmons? Sharp? None of those guys are nearly as good as you.” She says it completely without guile and I know that she totally believes in me. I hope she knows I feel the same way about her.

“Alex Bloom is on my short list. He hasn’t run a Presidential but he’s got a good success rate with some high stakes Senatorial races.”

“Where’s he at on the short list?”

“Third.”

She wrinkles her brow, still considering the possibilities. “Who’s above him? You know who’d be good? . . . “ She pauses.

“Who?” 

“Well, don’t think I’m crazy. And I know you want outsiders, but, . . .”

“Who?” I prompt her again.

“Amy. or Lou. They’re both better than those guys.”

At that, I hand over my list. She looks at it and gives me a big grin, obviously pleased because she came to the same conclusions as I have. Which again makes me consider giving her the job.

“I’m not going to lie, Donna. You should be on that list too.” She shakes her head a little in disagreement, so I find myself insisting. “Yes, you should. You’re just as good as everyone on that list. But I need you where you are. In essence you are FLOTUS’ campaign manager. She won’t have a separate campaign staff so I really need someone who knows what they are doing.”

She beams at my praise, as I continue. “You’re going to spend a lot of time working with the campaign manager, so I’d like you to weigh in on the short list. What do you think? I don’t really want to hire someone you’re going to have a problem with.”

“You’re asking me if I can work with Amy?”

I shrug a little not wanting to actually say it out loud. But she knows that’s what I’m saying.

She gives me a little grin. “We’d be fine. Contrary to what people think, we weren’t in competition for you. I don’t consider her the enemy. She’s a political power house and there are things about her that I really admire. She did some things that really pissed me off, especially trying to sabotage the Welfare Reauthorization Bill, but that’s water under the bridge. She’s done her job and done it well. I can work with her to get Matt re-elected, no problem.”

“Okay then.”

Donna looks down at the list and then back up at me. “I do have to say, I’m surprised she’s higher than Lou. Lou has more experience. In fact Lou has more experience than anyone on this list. Why isn’t she on top?”

“I go back and forth. There are a couple reasons Amy ended up #1. Wanna tell me what they are?”

“Sure. Give me a minute.” Donna sits there looking thoughtful. I enjoy the moment. This really is part of what I liked about working with her all those years. She craves opportunities to understand the process and figure things out. She really is part of the next wave of political masterminds.

“Lou plays the game a little harder than Matt wants to. You had to hold her back in the last campaign. She wins, but you worry about the cost to his character.”

“Yes. That’s part of it.”

Donna taps her lips with her finger as she tries to suss out the other piece of the puzzle. “Legislative affairs is in better shape than Communications. Moving Amy out of the White House won’t be as costly as moving Lou.”

“There you go.” I grin at her. “So what do you think?”

She wrinkles up her nose, so I know she’s about to punt. It’s a tell. “It’s too close for me to call. They’d both be great. I like the idea of working with one of them over someone I don’t know, but whatever you and Matt decide, I’ll make it work.”

“I know you will.” I assure her. “I’ve still got a few minutes before I’m meeting with him, do you want to go over some of the invitations?”

“No.” She answers breezily as she stands up. “I just came down here to light a fire under you. I’ll be able to make final decisions on them once we have a clear direction for the campaign.” She leans down and kisses my cheek. “Go get ‘em, Bulldog.” she whispers in my ear.

God, I love her.

. . . . 

As I walk into the room, Matt takes one look at my face and knows that I’m not messing around. “Alright, Josh, let’s hear it.” He offers with a bit of a sigh.

“You need to hire a campaign manager. I’ve put together some options for you to consider. Here’s a short list.” I hand him the piece of paper, which he puts down on an end table without reviewing.

“No.”

“Sir. . .”

“No, Josh. When we got into this I told you I had another point to add to your plan. YOU. I’m in if you’re in.”

“Sir. . .”

“Call me Matt. It’s just the two of us and we are talking about the campaign.”

He knows I hate using his first name in this room. But I need him to see my point, so I concede.

“Matt. You don’t want me for this.” I say it plainly without any self derision or animosity, but a look crosses his face and he cuts me off again.

“Listen, Josh, about last time. I let Barry and George just about convince me to replace you, but it wasn’t because I didn’t want you. You worked a miracle to get me to that point and I almost threw it away. And I’m really sorry.”

I’m a little shocked that he’d apologize, let alone bring this up now, three years later. Yes it sucked at the time, but I’m not holding a grudge. 

“There’s no reason to apologize. In a campaign you gotta do what you gotta do. And sometimes that means shaking things up. It would have been a strategic decision. Sometimes you have to change the narrative. And anyone not getting the job done has to go. It can’t be personal.”

“But you were getting the job done!” Matt insists. “Even though I didn’t always make it easy for you. And I want to keep it personal. It’s who I am. Leo was right. I was placing too much of the blame on you when I needed to take responsibility. And I don’t ever want to make decisions just to appease talking heads. You risked your reputation to put me here and I owed you more loyalty than that.”

“Well, thanks. But this isn’t about loyalty now. We need a campaign manager.”

“And I’m telling you . . . hire whomever you want as underlings, but it’s you. We’re in this together.”

I can’t help the little exasperated sigh that escapes and Matt raises his eyebrows and a little smirk plays around his mouth. Sure, I’m being a little disrespectful, but that’s what comes from him making me call him Matt in the Oval.

“Okay. Do you want me to step down as your Chief of Staff?” 

That is an option. I’ve considered it, but I ultimately rejected the idea because I’ve discovered I actually really do like helping run the country. I don’t want to  _ just _ be a political operative any more.

“Absolutely not.” Matt smirks at me again. “I have to do both, right? I have to be President and a candidate at the same time? We’ll just have to find the balance. But I gotta tell you. I really just want to show the public what I’m doing. I want THAT to be my campaign. If that doesn’t convince them to keep me in the job, then what’s the point?”

He does have a point there. If the campaign is just him doing his job, then me standing by him is just doing mine. But I’m sure it’s not going to be quite that easy. 

“Okay. I’ll meet with Ainsley and figure out what I can do. I’m sure I can’t have a campaign title or take a salary. But either way the campaign will still go through me. Bruno ran everything through Leo too. But I still need a campaign team and someone in charge of it.”

“Alright.” Matt picks up my short list and looks at it. While he does, I start explaining my rationale.

“Lou definitely has the most experience. She knows what she’s doing. And she’s a winner. I know we weren’t 100% comfortable with her style, but she adapted well to what we wanted and we worked well together. And now, four years later, she’s even more familiar with how you like to operate. She knows our message and I trust her to deliver. Amy is a wild card. She has a lot of experience campaigning too. But it’s been more specialized. She’s good at strategy and great at polling. She’s a leader without a doubt, but she's never had a managerial role in a campaign. Still her office runs very well and she’s had plenty of jobs where she’s had a staff to direct.”

I take a breath and continue. 

“If neither of them worked for us right now, I’d pick Lou without a second thought. But they do, so I have to consider what moving them to campaign staff will do to the administration. And that’s where Amy pulls even. Her staff is much better equipped to step up. Ryan will make a fantastic Legislative Director and there are at least two ready to be the deputy. Communications on the other hand already feels short staffed. We have less speech writers than I’d like and the ones we have need a lot of direction. Edie is awesome but I don’t have quite the same confidence in her as I have in Lou.” 

“What about Donna?” Matt asks. “You aren’t overcompensating and leaving her out just because she’s your wife, are you?”

“No. I considered her. She’s got a brilliant political mind and a decent amount of experience. But she’s never actually ran a campaign, or even been number 2. These last 3 years in Helen’s office she’s gained a lot of managerial skills and experience. Honestly some Congressional campaign would be wise to try to woo her from us.  But with a Presidential all eyes are on you. That’s a lot of pressure.” I stop for a second just checking myself that I’m not making this decision as a husband, rather than an operative. No, I’m right about this. “This isn’t the time to throw Donna in the deep end. We need her where she is. The FLOTUS office will give us a lot of visibility. Keeping Donna in charge over there is the best thing we can do and it will position her well for four years from now.”

“Okay. I know you’ve always been careful about nepotism. I just wanted to make sure.”

“No. Believe me. I seriously considered it. If everything is coming through me anyway, having Donna as number 2 would make things much easier. And running it together, I’m sure she could handle it. But everyone would think I was pulling the strings and she’d get less credit for it than she would deserve. But mostly importantly, it would leave a hole in Helen’s office that would be too hard to fill. Plus-- do you want to be the one to tell your wife that we are poaching Donna from her?”

“No. When you put it that way . . .”

“Exactly. Now--” I gesture back to the short list in his hand.

“Right,” he agrees looking back down at the paper. He studies it a minute before he speaks. “I don’t really want to hire an outsider as your #2 unless that’s what you want. I think we need to pick someone that we can trust both out on the trail and back here in the office. Some of these can be approached for jobs, but not quite so high up. I think you’re right, it comes down to Amy or Lou.”


	4. Could it be this easy?

As soon as I leave Josh’s office I call Keith from the General Services Administration. He answers on the second ring.

“Procurement, Keith speaking.”

“Hey Keith, it’s Donna Moss Lyman, from the First Lady’s Office.”

“Hey Donna, how are you doing?”

“I’m great Keith. Listen, I need a big White Board Calendar. Preferably 12 months but at least 6.”

“Wall mounted or on wheels?”

“OH! Wheels would be great.”

“You got it, Donna. Anything else you need?”

“Markers?”

“Sure thing. When do you need it?.”

“How soon can I have it?”

“You know what? I’ll bring it up within the hour.”

“You’re the best Keith.”

“Anything for you.”

That task done, I head towards the Residence. 

. . . . .

“MAMA!” Lulu cheers as I arrive. It’s always nice to be greeted by a fan club. “Mama! I still dry.” She runs over to me and I scoop her up into my arms. I love it when I can spend time with her in the middle of the day.

“That’s great, sweetheart!” I look over to Nicole who is smiling and nodding.

“I’ve been checking with her every hour, but she told me on her own three times this morning. I think she’s got this.”

‘Wow. Could it really be this easy?” I ask her.

Nicole laughs a little. “Yes. Sometimes it is. Every kid is different, but I’ll be honest. I’m not surprised. Lulu has always been a bit ahead of the curve and communication skills are a really big part of potty training.”

“Okay, I guess I shouldn’t complain, right?”

“Right! Take the victories where you get them.”

“It’s lunch time, Mama.” Lulu tells me, very seriously. “You have lunch with me.”

“Yes, Lulu. I’ll have lunch with you. In fact, Auntie Helen asked us to come have lunch with her. Does that sound good?”

“YES!” Lulu answers enthusiastically, jumping up and down. She looks so much like Josh when she’s excited, she just steals my heart every time. God, I love this kid.

“Great.” I turn to Nicole. “We’ll be about a half an hour, then I’ll get her down for a nap, if you want to run out for lunch one of us can listen to the monitor until you get back.”

She gives me a quick grin. “I’ll give Ryan’s assistant a call and see if I can surprise him.”

“Sounds like a plan.” I tell Nicole as I set Lulu back down. “Let’s go babydoll.” 

Lulu skips ahead of me until she gets to the stairs and then she stops and walks down very slowly holding on to the railing. On one hand I wonder if Josh’s worry has made her overly cautious. On the other, I’m glad it has. It’s not like we could just put baby gates all over the Residence.

“Hey guys! It’s so good to see you!” When we get to the kitchen Helen greets us like it’s been days, rather than hours since she’s seen us. “Lulu! You’re getting so big!”

“I’m wearing undies!” Lulu tells her in a conspiratorial whisper. I’m a little surprised at her discretion. Normally she announces things in top volume.

“So am I.” Helen tells in her the same tone. Lulu’s eyes get very big, and I wonder if this information will be regurgitated at an inappropriate time. I can almost picture Lulu shouting it out to a gaggle as we leave the White House. We really don’t need another campaign underwear scandal. It’s a good thing I’m fairly friendly with the White House Press Corps.

Helen picks Lulu up and puts her into her booster seat, and then gestures to me to sit down. A few minutes later we are being served bowls of homemade veggie soup with chunks of fresh bread. I wish I could bottle Helen when she’s like this-- in her element-- relaxed and hospitable, it’s a side the public doesn’t get a glimpse of very often. I wonder how I can better showcase it.

“Okay Donna-- I see the wheels turning over there.” Helen laughs. “Is this going to end up being a working lunch?”

“No work, Mama.” Lulu chimes in with the slightest frown, making me wonder if she’s exposed a little too much to our high pressure jobs..

“Okay, okay you two. We’ll save the work stuff for later.”

. . . . . .

When I get back to my office I print off some emails that I’ve been saving and add them to the pile of written invitations. Then I start sorting them. The ones that have specific dates I sort by month, then for each stack I prioritize them by the ones I think are most in line with the First Lady’s initiatives. Of course, the ones we’ve already accepted go on top. I’m looking through the undated ones when Karen buzzes in.

“Donna, Keith’s here with your board.”

“Thanks, send him in.”

As soon as I hear the door open, I stand up to greet Keith. He grins as he wheels the giant board in. “Here you go, Donna.”

“Thanks for getting it up here so fast.”

“No problem.” He hands me a brand new box of Expo Markers, a 12 piece set that includes several sizes and colors plus an eraser. These are awesome. And I give him a big grin.

Once he leaves I pull out my planner and start filling in the months and days on the calendar. It takes a while to do that, especially since I’m concentrating on my printing. There’s no reason to give Josh an opportunity to tease me, It’s really not bad unless I’m in a hurry.

Once the calendar is ready, I pick up the stacks of invitations and start filling them in, giving each a short name and a location, and using different colors to indicate what type of event. There are several days with more than one event opportunity on the same day. This calendar will make it easier to handle the logistics and figure out what’s really doable. There are alway several factors to consider in making a final determination about how many of these to accept, including who is hosting the event, what the theme is for the event, and whether Helen or the kids have anything on their personal schedule. Now there will be another factor-- how it fits into the campaign. 

I’ve been steadily increasing the amount of appearances Helen makes for the last 3 years. As Peter and Miranda have gotten older it’s been easier. Most of her events fit into one of three categories: education; health, or social justice. The first two fall right into line with the President’s agenda. I assume the Campaign will want us to continue those, and to highlight them as much as possible. Social justice is Helen’s baby. The President has always tried to take a more centrist position with this one. Courting law enforcement, while at the same time talking about reform. He cares about these things but they tripped him up on the first campaign. Helen has decided she doesn’t mind ruffling some feathers. She has opinions and she’s decided to share them. I love it. But it’s been a slight source of conflict between the East and West Wings. I would imagine the Campaign will want us to tread lightly here. They’re going to find out that the East Wing isn’t going to just do whatever they say. Helen has an agenda that she cares about. While it’s important that we win, we aren’t going to completely ignore her causes. 

The events that don’t fit into those categories are the ones that we have to do that we don’t necessarily love but that are part and parcel with this job. They involve the pageantry of the White House,things like State Dinners, Easter Egg Rolls, and the State of the Union after-glow.

When I finish, I lean back and look at my work. I’m ready to go. Now I need Helen. I don’t really want to share this big picture with the rest of my staff until Helen buys in. I need her full on board before I show the rest of them just how ambitious I want to be. But Helen is out for the rest of the day and I can’t quite decide if I want to take this to her in the Residence or not. I’ve been taking her temperature for months now. We joke about it, but I finally nailed her down to a definite yes, she does want to see Matt re-elected. She recognizes the good we are doing and has embraced her role in it. I’ve also been planting the idea that she can take a larger role. The truth is, I think she can propel Matt to another term. She has everything it takes, but it’s going to take more than she’s currently doing.

At 4 o’clock I grab my agenda and head to the conference room for my staff meeting. This meeting is usually fairly short, just to touch base with what we’ve accomplished for the day and what we need to do tomorrow. It’s not where we do our long term planning or strategizing. Usually.

I’m glad everyone else is already there and ready to go. They know how this round robin works. I start at the bottom and work my way up.

“Ned?”

“Peter has the orthodontist on Thursday after school. That shouldn’t affect anything on the public schedule, but next week Mrs. Santos is the room Mom for Miranda’s Valentines Party. That’s a tight schedule with the food packing, she may need to leave early.”

“Okay, thanks for letting me know. We’ll be okay there.”

“Angela?”

“I’m good. But I’d love some pictures of the Valentine’s party for the blog.”

“I’ll talk to her about it. What is up in the family section of the blog now?”

“Christmas.”

“Okay.”

“Annabeth?”

“We’re in good shape. We’re getting really good preview press for her President’s day events. Obviously the elementary school is closed, but the ribbon cutting for the Brayburn University Library is open to the public. I think we’ll get a great turn out.”

“How are we doing on speeches for those? These are important. You know what we’re looking for, right?”

“I just got the preliminary copies today. Rhodes Elementary won our nationwide Read More/Write More contest. Over 99% of their students participated, reading an average of 7.2 books per month and completing a short summation on each over the last year. Then their average test scores jumped 26 points! The speech highlights their incredible accomplishment, conveys how proud the President is of their success and compliments them as being shining examples of the type of forward thinking school that has implemented the President’s education initiatives and made great strides in education.”

“Sounds good.”

“I think you’re really going to like it. We’ve got a new speechwriter in the pool. A young lady that just graduated from Columbia in December. She came highly recommended and so far I’m really impressed. If Mrs. Santos likes her, I think we should snag her for this office rather than leaving her in the pool.”

“Okay, I want to see the speeches as soon as we’re done here. Thanks. Have you got anything else for us?”

“Not right now. I did just get an email for a commencement address from a college I’ve never heard of. I need to vet it. I’ll let you know whether I think it’s worth pursuing tomorrow.”

“Okay, sound good. Thanks everyone. Keep up the good work. Things are going to get a little hectic this year, but I know you can all handle it.”

As we leave, Annabeth follows me to my office. It’s not that uncommon for her and I to brainstorm together after the meeting, especially now that I don’t have a deputy. Jamie was good. But once I finished school there really wasn’t enough work for both of us. I was hoping she’d hold on until there was more to do, or if I had another baby, but I can’t blame her for taking the Chief of Staff position with Congresswoman Moyer. It was a good career move.

“So, I was thinking,” Annabeth begins without breamble, “you really should hire a deputy.”

“Funny. That’s exactly what I was just thinking about.”

“I’m sure the two of us will be traveling quite a bit more with Mrs. Santos. Angie will be fine here on Communications, especially if we get a speechwriter, but Karen and Ned can’t be expected to handle the rest of the operation. I know Mrs. Santos likes to keep things lean, but I think we need a couple more people, specifically a deputy and a speechwriter or two.”

“I agree. I’ll talk to Mrs. Santos about it and then I’ll see what I can do. Other than this young lady you have your eye on is there anyone else you want to try to poach from the West Wing?”

Annabeth looks thoughtful for a moment. “No, they don’t really have many to spare over there either and I don’t fancy getting on your husband’s bad side.” 

“Aww, he’s as sweet as pecan pie.” I tell her with a little smirk, causing her to roll her eyes.

“Well, I’m sure you could get away with it, but I really can’t think of anyone else. We’re going to have to hire from the outside, and you know how long that can take. If I were you, I’d talk to Mrs. Santos as soon as possible. We really need to get moving on this.”

“Thanks, Annabeth.”

Once she leaves my office I pull out a piece of paper and start making a list of the duties I’d assign to a deputy. Oversight of some of the beauty pageant stuff for sure. The Easter Egg Roll and The Fourth of July Celebration. I could probably hand off the Feed the Children Initiative, that’s a well-oiled machine. And she, or he I suppose, could serve as a filter, for some of the requests we get. A deputy could at least organize and prioritize them for me.

Jamie did all that and more. She was extremely competent and I needed that level of assistance while I was out on maternity leave and while I was gone two days a week for school. But I've been able to handle the job for the last year, and there are a lot of things I don’t want to give up. Still, I do want to be extremely active in the campaign so I'm going to need a right hand man or woman, around here..

Karen knocks then enters the office.

"Donna? I've got some more invitations. I've sorted them by month and I checked out their websites and added sticky notes with more information on several of them."

"Thanks, Karen. I appreciate that."

She smiles as she turns to go and the thought occurs to me . . . maybe I can just promote my assistant.


	5. Making Decisions

Back in my office I grab a piece of paper and scratch out the roles we have to fill and the names of my options. I blame Donna for this. She’s gotten me used to having lists. After some deliberation, I feel like I’ve reached my decision.

The first place I head is to Lou’s office. Margaret gives me a look on my way out the door that is meant to remind me that people usually come to me these days, but I’m being strategic. I have my reasons for wanting to meet her in her own territory.

Still, I take a deep breath as I tap on the door jam.

“Come in.” She shouts without looking up from her computer. I flop onto her couch and wait for her to finish. I’ve worked around communications long enough to know that you shouldn't interrupt a writer on a roll if you can help it.

Truth is, Lou’s not our main writer. Not the way Toby was. Really she has the job Toby always wanted. Crafting the message, input on policy, a bigger voice in the direction of the administration. Lou is a strategist. So it’s likely that she’s just giving direction or polish to someone else’s work, but still, I’ll wait.

Finally she looks up.

“Oh, hey, Josh.”

“Hey. You got a few minutes to talk about the campaign?”

“It’s about damn time. I told you we needed an event! The primaries are going to start in a few weeks. We need to get moving.”

“We’re still fine. The DNC has been running ads for weeks, and he doesn’t have a challenger for the primaries. We don’t need to blow a lot of money.”

“But we still can’t cede the airwaves to the Republicans. We need to get our message out there.”

“I know. That’s what I want to talk to you about. Where do you think you’d be most effective in spreading that message? Here or on the campaign trail.”

“What would my role be on the campaign?” She asks with her eyebrows raised. I see a bit of spark in her eyes. I think if I offered her campaign manager she’d take it. But that’s not what Matt wants. 

“You’d have the same role as last time.”

I see her thinking about it. If I’m offering the same role, that implies that there would be someone above her. Although, truthfully, I’d say we were practically equals last time. 

“Who is going to be the campaign manager?” She asks with a furrowed brow even as her brain jumps ahead. “Are you stepping down as Chief of Staff?” She asks in slight disbelief.

“The President wants me to stay on as Chief of Staff, and he still wants me to manage the campaign. Unofficially, of course.”

Lou lets out a low whistle. “That’s a lot. You up for it?”

“I’ll manage. Leo was de facto manager of Bartlet’s reelection campaign. Bruno had to run everything through him.”

“Still that was Bruno and a whole team.”

“Yeah.”

“And if you are asking me to do the same thing as last time, you’re not asking me to be Bruno. Who’s going to run the day to day operations?”

“What do you think of Amy Gardner?”

“Really? Amy as your number 2.” Lou’s eyes light up and her voice goes up. I think she’s already picturing Amy and I in squirmishes.

I’m pleased to see that she doesn’t look offended, but I still feel the need to explain myself. “Well, yes, but for the most part you’d be equals. You’d both answer directly to me, but you’d still have all the access you need to the President. Your role really would be what it was before.”

“Uou haven’t talked to Amy about this yet?”

“No. I wanted to get your opinion first, and to see what you want to do. If you want back on the campaign staff, you’d be part of the deal. Whether you stay here or get back out there, you’re a vital part of our re-election strategy.”

Lou gives me one of her little grimace smiles. Neither of us is touchy feely, but I think I’ve pleased her. She taps her lips in thought for a moment before speaking.

“Amy is a good choice. She’s been a senior advisor on several major campaigns. She understands all the moving parts and she’s got relationships with all the key democratic players. I like her. She’s tough, she’s driven, she’s smart.”

“But?” I ask, sensing that she’s not quite done.

“I think as long as you’re ultimately steering the ship, Amy in charge of the campaign works, but as much as I like campaigning, I think I’ll stay put.”

That surprises me a little. I had to talk her into taking an administration job. I thought she’d jump at the chance to get back into campaign mode where she has a little more freedom to speak her mind.

“Really? Is this because of Amy?”

“No, not at all. I do like campaigning but I like what I’m doing here more. The President said he wants this to be a campaign built on the work we’ve done. I think staying here and doing the work is the best thing I can do. And I assume that the campaign staff is going to be getting a lot of the messaging direction from this office?”

“Yes. Absolutely. Well, I have to tell you. I’m a little surprised, but I’m really glad that I won’t need to replace you. And I would like your input on the campaign communications staff. I’ll leave the actual hiring to Amy, if she accepts the job, but I’d like to give some names to her.”

“Otto did a really good job for us last time.” 

“Yes, but I’m going to need more than that.”

“I’ll get you a list.”

“Okay. And what about Edie?”

“What about her?”

“Would you give her up if we asked?”

“Are you asking?”

“Not yet. But again, I’d like to give Amy some names. Edie was the Deputy Campaign Manager for Strategic Planning and she’s been your Deputy Communications Director for 3 years. I think she’d be a big help to Amy.”

“Okay, yeah. If she became the Campaign Communications Director we’d still be working closely on messaging. I’ll need to hire a new deputy for here though.”

“Yeah. Okay, thanks.” I’m almost out of her office when I stop myself and turn back. “I probably don’t say this enough, but you were a big help on the first campaign and you are a big help around here. I know we don’t always see eye to eye, but I really appreciate you.

Lou gives me a level look for a minute. Then she snarks, “It’s like you’re a completely different man, and it kind of freaks me out.”

I’m not sure, but I think that was meant to be a compliment, so I can’t help but grin at her before I go.

As I breeze back into my office, Margaret gives me another stare of disapproval.

“You’re behind. You’ve got Skinner and Rosenthal in there waiting, and a Kazakhstan briefing in the Sit Room.”

“Okay, okay.” I offer, holding my hands up in surrender. “But I need Amy in here before the end of the day.”

Margaret rolls her eyes and starts searching for a spot to squeeze her in. That part isn't my problem, so I walk into my office to address the matters at hand.

. . . . .

It’s just a few minutes before 6pm when I can finally get to Amy. As I follow my last appointment out the door, I see her sitting there. I really hope she hasn’t been waiting long.

“Hey. Come on in.” I tell her before turning to Margaret. “ Did you call Donna and tell her I’m running late?”

“Yes.” Margaret assures me. I told her it might be a good idea to head home without you.” This is why her disapproving stares don’t bother me. She’s looking out for my best interests. 

“Thanks. Can you give her another call and tell her I’ll try to be home by 7 unless there is an emergency.”

“Will do.” Margaret responds, picking up the phone.

“Let’s sit over there.” I point Amy towards the comfy couch and chairs as I follow her into the room, closing the door behind me.

“Hopefully you haven’t been waiting long? Do you want Margaret to get you something to drink?”

Amy raises an eyebrow. “No, I’ve only been out there a couple minutes. When it looked like your 5 o’clock was going to go long, Margaret called me and pushed me back another half hour.”

“Good. I’m really glad to hear that.”

“Alright. What’s up, J? You’re acting a little weird.”

‘Well. I have a proposition for you.”

“A proposition. That sounds interesting.” She quips, giving me one of her sarcastic little grins and looking me over. 

I know she’s just kidding, but it’s a little creepy. I’m really not interested in innuendos from her. Still, instead of taking the bait for a squabble, I decide to just jump right to the point.

“President Santos and I want you to head up the campaign.”

‘What?” 

I have to admit, it’s a little nice to catch Amy off guard. The entirety of the time I’ve known Amy has felt like trying to catch up to her, all the while trying to figure out if I want to even be where she’s heading.

She stares silently at me for a moment. Contemplating. Planning. I try not to let it make me feel nervous. I’m secure in my role. I can handle this. If Amy says no, I’ll move on to plan B.

“Are you unhappy with the job I’ve done in Legislative Affairs?” She finally asks.

“To the contrary, my friend. You’ve done an excellent job. And your office runs like a well-oiled machine. In fact, that’s part of the reason we feel comfortable tagging you for this. You’ve got a deputy that can take over.”

“Cheeky Little Brat.” She responds good naturedly. “Guess he’s finally grown up. Perhaps we all are.” She adds a little airily. “I’m honestly surprised you’re offering me campaign manager.”

Uh oh. I’d better tread carefully here. “Well. In the interest of full disclosure, I’m not offering you campaign manager.”

“You’re not?”

“Well, technically, no.”

“Well, technically, what the hell are you talking about Josh?”

From pleasant to bickering in under 5 minutes. This is hardly a record Amy and I. And I feel a low growl tempting to work it’s way out, but I bite it back, even as I wonder once again if I’m making a huge mistake.

“Technically the President wants me to be his campaign manager, while still being his Chief of Staff. Since I can’t be everywhere all at once, I need someone to run the campaign. I’m asking you. You can pick your title, you just can’t pick campaign manager. Whadda ya say?”

“Would you actually let me run the thing?”

“Yes, but through me.”

“Who would be hiring the rest of the campaign staff?”

“Mostly you. I have some suggestions, and I’ll want to sign off on the high profile positions, but the majority will be up to you.”

“You know, 60% of the electorate is women.”

“Yes. I do. And I trust you to end up with more than 40% female staff.”

“Damn right.”

“What else?” 

“How much time will I be on the road?”

“Worried about your lumberjack?”

“ _ Josh!” _

“I’m sorry.” I offer quickly. And I really am. I’m better than this now. But Amy’s never brought out the best in me. Still I’d like to try, so I attempt a sincere tone of voice. “How is Landon these days?”

Amy responds well to my tone, and answers with a slight smile. “He’s good. We’re happy. He’s not much interested in the institution of marriage, but we’re living together and it feels permanent.”

“I’m happy for you, Amy. Really. And I understand. I don’t want to be on the road all the time either. This is a re-election campaign. He still has to govern. You can set up a main office here in DC. You’ll need to travel a bit to set up the state offices, but once they are up and running you can leave a lot of work to the locals. Obviously, you’ll have to travel with the President to events but it’ll just be a few days at a time at the most. You can stand to be away from Landon for a few days, right?”

Amy scoffs at me then. “Of course, I can. What about  _ you _ ?”

“Well, actually Donna will probably be doing more traveling than I will. The East Wing won’t have a separate campaign staff. You’ll have to work heavily with Donna. Will that be an issue?”

“Good grief, Josh. What is this  _ A Midsummer’s Night Dream _ ? Donna and I get along fine. In fact, I really admire her.”

“You do?”

“Yes, Josh. I do. At first it was just the way she ran your office, and really, you. But it didn’t take long to see how incredibly smart she is. I knew that once she gained enough confidence, she’d be unstoppable. In fact, my only regret was not snatching her out of your office years ago. Although, I can admit, my motives were a little selfish.” She offers with her sly smirk.

“What are you talking about?”

“You remember Abbey’s big birthday bash?”

“Of course,” I chuckle. It was the night of the INS snafu that had Donna convinced she was Canadian. 

“Abbey, CJ & I were upstairs getting a little boozy. You sent Donna to summon me, _ jackass _ .” She mutters the jibe. “Well, Abbey invited her to stay and have drinks with us.. While the rest of us were freely imbibing and grousing about Abbey’s problems, Donna barely sipped at her glass and stayed pretty quiet. But when the moment came, she delivered some cold hard truth to Abbey. Of course, Donna got a little frightened and tried to walk it back. But it was what Abbey needed to hear, and she was really grateful. And I was impressed. Talk about speaking truth to power! That’s when I knew that Donna had what it takes. I should have snagged her then. But I wasn’t stupid. The only way I had any chance at you was if she stayed right where she was, because you, my friend, would  _ never _ date your assistant.”

She says the last part just bitterly enough that I feel the need to clear the air.

“You’re right. I wouldn’t. I really did like you, Amy. I wasn’t just biding my time waiting for Donna. I told you. I’m not any good at relationships. I was in denial about what was right in front of me.”

My apology seems to soften Amy. She gives me a smile that’s just a little sad. “You’re a good man, Josh. You and I weren’t meant to be. You and Donna have a good thing. And you’re a good Dad.”

Her praise seems sincere, even though I’m a little surprised by it. But it helps relieve some of my concerns. Maybe Amy and I can work together without constant bickering. Maybe this all will work out. 

“Thanks Amy. . . . So, what do you say? Do you want the job?”

She thinks it over for a moment, but eventually nods decisively.

“Yeah. I do. Let me have tonight to consider my terms and pick a title? Then if you and the President accept, I’ll hand in my resignation and we can get this thing started.”

I’m glad that’s resolved. I glance at my watch surprised to see we’ve been at this forty-five minutes. This is exactly what I’d feared, campaign work eating up my family time.

“Okay. We’ll talk more tomorrow. But I gotta get home now.” I tell Amy as I grab my coat and show her the door. This has been a long day.


	6. End of a Long Day part 1

It’s just after 7 before the front door opens and Josh yells “Honey, I’m ho-ome!” in his best Ricky Ricardo voice.

Lulu comes racing from her bedroom as soon as she hears him. “Daddy! Daddy!”

He scoops her up and twirls her around, planting noisy kisses all over her face while she giggles hysterically. Then he shoots me a fully dimpled grin and I just about melt. I’m not at all immune to his charms. Even when I’m exhausted. 

I’m so glad to see him. I forget what a luxury it is to work at the same place until the rare occasion when I have to manage getting Lu home on my own. Especially today, lugging the extra stuff and having to run to make it to the potty in time.

But here we are, all together again. Josh saunters up to me and grabs me around the waist, pulling me tight to him, then planting a long, deep kiss on me. By the time he stops, I’m breathless and Lulu is giggling. One thing’s for sure. She’ll never wonder if her parents love each other.

“My woman.” Josh announces with a smirk. He’s trying to get a rise out of me. But the truth is when he kisses me like that, I don’t mind the title. “Something smells fantastic.”

I’m not quite sure why the second part of his comment sets me on edge. But it does. ‘Well. That would be your mother’s cooking. She put a roast in the crock pot before she left.” I answer in a frosty tone,.

“Um, okay.” Josh responds a little sheepishly. I’m sure he had a whole monologue about the little woman cooking for her man about to go. And here I threw some cold, hard facts on it. I almost feel bad about it. I do like it when he’s in a playful mood, even with the silly, slightly misogynic comments, but there’s something in me that just ruffled at it this time. I guess I’m just not in the mood. I worked hard today. I don’t want or need credit for someone else’s cooking.

He watches me closely for a minute, probably to gauge whether or not he’s in any real trouble, before he shrugs and loosens his tie with one hand while lowering Lulu to the floor with the other arm. As soon as her feet hit the floor she runs back into her room. Then he takes me by the waist again.

“Do I need to say I’m sorry for something?” He asks carefully, searching my eyes. He doesn’t always get how close to the line he walks sometimes, but he’s pretty good about accepting responsibility if I call him out on it. For a guy from his generation, he’s doing pretty good. And the fact that he’s ready to make amends, brings me back from the edge.

“No, you’re fine. I was just starting to feel a little ornery.” I tell him, then reassure him that I’m really not mad with a soft kiss. “Why don’t you go change?”

He slips into our room and I can hear him moving around as he continues to talk to me.

“Anyway. It smells good. You guys didn’t have to wait on me for dinner. You’re probably starving.”

I make my way over to the door, and lean against it as I watch as he throws his pants over the chair and opens his dresser to look for some sweats.

“We’re fine Josh. I gave Lu a little snack when we got home. So. . . . how’d your meeting with Amy go?”

“Good. She’s on board. She’ll give me her terms tomorrow, but I’m sure they’ll be fine. But you know,” he saunters back over to me pulling me close, “I’d rather not talk about her while I’m not wearing any pants.”

“Good call.” I respond, squeezing his ass a little, causing him to groan.

“Hey. I should get dressed for dinner and you’re making it really hard.”

“Well, I like making you hard.” I answer cheekily as I turn to go back to the kitchen. But Josh grabs my arm and pulls me back to him, grinding himself into my behind, and leaning down and whispering in my ear.

“So naughty today. I like it when you’re feisty.” Then he sends me off with a little pat to my rear end.

I’m a little surprised. He hasn’t talked like that since I told him about Dr. Freeride. I hope this means he’s beyond it and we’re getting back to the way we were. As I stare, mouth a little open, he’s grinning at me and his eyes are sparkling, so obviously he’s not thinking about the same thing I am. I feel a big weight, that I didn’t even know I was carrying, lift off me, and I shoot a grin back at him.

“Well, restrain yourself for now, and we can discuss just how feisty I can get once Lulu is down for the night.”

As I pop back into the kitchen, I hear him moan, “you’re killing me. But what a way to go.”

That makes me grin even bigger as I quickly check in on Lulu. She’s happily playing with the dollhouse but I’ll bet she’s ready to eat.

“Hey sweetie. Time to put the dollies in their beds and come eat dinner now that Daddy’s home.” 

I watch her for a minute, happy to see that she’s putting things away, before I leave the room. When I get back to the kitchen, Josh is getting the plates out of the cupboard to set the table. He’s a good man. Our life is probably about to get really crazy, but we’ll be okay.

Lulu runs through the house only a few moments later. I hear Josh let out a fake “oomph” and then Lulu giggles and I don’t have to be in the room to know that she’s run into him full steam and he’s fallen on the couch as if she knocked him over.

“Time to eat Daddy!” She shouts at him.

“Oh no! It’s time to eat Daddy? I’d better hide.” Josh responds as she giggles again and I hear him scoop her up as I continue putting the roast and vegetables on a platter. 

Then as I turn to carry them to the table, Josh is right in front of me, with hungry eyes, “time to eat Mama,” he murmurs in a low voice, leaning in and nibbling on my neck even as he takes the platter from my hands. I watch him as he leaves the room, then glance at my watch. How much longer until bedtime?

When I get back to the dining room, I find Josh and Lulu at the table waiting patiently for me. I’m really glad that we held off on him for our meal. Having dinner together as often as possible really is the foundation for a strong family. It’s a tangible reminder that we are putting us first, even while giving all the time and attention needed for an effective administration. I think we finally figured out that it’s a marathon, not a sprint. Sometimes I wonder if President Bartlet’s first term would have gone better if we’d realized this then.

Once I sit down, Josh starts putting food on Lulu’s plate. She dives in immediately, so I guess she is hungry.

“Yummy, Mama.” Lulu announces as she wolfs down another bite of carrot. Josh smirks at me while he agrees with her. 

“You’re right about that.”

I roll my eyes as I finish chewing a bite of salad. When I’m done I decide to change the topic. “So, can we talk about work for a minute?” 

“Something wrong?” He asks his brow wrinkling. While work isn’t off-limits at home, we really do try not to let it consume our whole world and I usually don’t bring stuff up during dinner. But it’s not that long until it’s Lulu’s bedtime, and I have plans for Josh after that, and they definitely don’t include work related discussions!

“No, actually, I’ve got Helen on board for hiring a couple more staff people to help us get through re-election and I’ve got some ideas I want to run past you.”

“That’s great! Whatcha thinkin’?”

“Well, Annabeth has her eye on a speechwriter from the pool.”

“Awww, Donna . . .” he immediately whines, “we’re already short on speechwriting staff!”

“I know. But you can hire a few all at once. I only need one and it sounds like she’s got Helen’s voice down. Come on, you can ask Toby for some more recommendations. Give me this one.”

He’s slowly shaking his head, so I decide to play hardball. “Please.” I plead softly batting my eyes at him and giving him the face.

“Donna. . . . Stop it. Donna.” He whines again. “ You’re not playing fair.”

“Donna. Stop it.” Lulu parrots in the exact same tone of voice causing Josh and I both to burst into laughter.

“That’s Mama to you shortstuff.” Josh tells her between gafaws and gulping for air. “And when she looks at me like that she can have anything she wants. Even if it’s not playing fair.”

“You’re right. That wasn’t fair.” I admit. “But seriously now. There’s no reason for us both to spend time interviewing speechwriters, and you’re going to have to either way.”

“Actually, Sam’s going to have to do that. He’s Deputy Chief of Staff.” Josh’s smirks, “ And you’re right. It makes sense. Use her for the next couple speeches and if you’re satisfied, we’ll assign her to your office.”

“Thanks, Josh. Sorry I used the face.”

“It’s okay. Just don’t teach it to her.” He answers pointing to Lulu. “Or I’ll never be able to say no.”

That makes me laugh. Like there’s much chance he’ll be able to anyway. “Okay, deal.”

“Okay, deal.” Lulu copies me, batting her eyes at Josh exactly the way that I do.

“Oh, God, it’s too late.” Josh moans, while I giggle hysterically. Luckily for both of us she joins me in laughter instead of copying Josh.

“All right you, two. Finish your dinner.” Josh tells us in his no nonsense voice. We both respond by immediately taking a bite of food and Josh looks fairly pleased with himself at having some small measure of authority.

He smirks through the next few minutes as we all finish eating. But eventually he looks quizzically at me. “You said a couple more staff people. What else are you thinking?”

“Well. I think I need to hire another deputy. Helen is willing to travel a bit more now that the kids are a little older, and since I can’t be two places at once, I need someone to mind the store when I’m gone, or to go with her when I stay home.”

“Yeah. I definitely agree with that. You should get with HR and get a listing posted right away.”

“Well, actually . . .”

“Oh, no, Donna! You can’t have another one of my people. There’s no one else I can spare.” He interupts, looking sincerely worried.

“No, that’s not what I was thinking.” I quickly reassure him, and he relaxes. “I was thinking . . . what if I promoted Karen?”

A strange look passes over Josh’s face and he opens his mouth, then closes it again. He sits silently for a few minutes, then finally quietly says, “I don’t think that’s a very good idea.” 

“What?!?!” That’s not at all the response I was expecting. I thought he liked Karen.

“Donna,” Josh begins gently,

“ALL DONE!” Lulu announces over top of him, showing her hands.

“Good job, sweetie. Do you want some more carrots?” He asks her, switching gears, while I sit here stumped.

“No, tank you. I all done.” Lulu responds politely. “I get down now.”

I snap back into Mommy mode and prompt Lulu for the right way to ask.. “Lulu, how do you ask?” 

“Peas? I get down?” She begs me.

“Okay. Just a minute. Let me get a washcloth.” I tell her as I get up from the table. As I run one under the warm water, I start to think about what Josh’s hesitation could be about. He doesn’t usually interfere with my office. He hardly weighed in on Jamie at all, just saying that whomever I chose would be fine. Why is it different this time? Is it just because she’s my assistant? Is he feeling guilty about never promoting me? Does he think I’m doing this to prove some sort of point to him? That makes me stop for a minute and do some self evaluation. Am I trying to prove a point to him? Am I just trying to show him how you should treat an assistant that you find valuable? That you should give her opportunities even when no one else thinks so? I do think that. Karen has been fantastic. I couldn’t do my job nearly as well without her. She frequently goes above and beyond. I do want to reward her. 

I walk slowly back to the dining table, a little lost in my thoughts. Josh watches me as I quietly wash Lulu’s face and hands and then help her out of her booster chair.

“Ten minutes until bathtime, pumpkin.” He tells her. She nods and runs off. “Do you want to get her bath ready while I clear the table?” He asks while he studies me a little more.

“Sure. That’s a good plan.”

“Then we’ll talk about it?” He prompts.

“Yes. We’ll talk about it.” I assure him, grabbing him for a kiss. I do want to hear why he thinks it’s a bad idea. Then I’ll make up my mind.

. . . .

Once she hears the water running, Lulu comes in to help me get the bath ready. She’s very particular about what she wants but you never know what will strike her fancy on any given day. 

“More bubbles, Mama.” She insists as she roots through the bath toys and adds an army of rubber ducks. 

“What’s this?” She asks holding up a package of soap crayons that Charlie and Zoey gave her for Hannukah.

“They’re special crayons. You can draw on the tub and it will wash away.”

“Ahkay.”

“Do you want to try them?”

“YES!” She nods furiously. Sometimes it’s a wonder she doesn’t give herself a headache. She‘s so exuberant about things. Like Josh.

“Okay. But these are ONLY for the bathroom at bathtime nowhere else. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“And you can’t use any other crayons in here, just these ones, okay?”

  
“Ahkay.”

“Okay.” Against my better judgment, I open the package, which I now notice does say for ages 3 and up. Something tells me we are starting a slippery slope, and I could end up having this conversation about where to draw many, many times. I also make a mental note to buy something equally annoying for Charlie and Zoey as soon as they have children.


	7. End of a Long Day part 2

While Donna’s getting Lulu’s bath ready, I take my time clearing the table. I put the leftovers away, just like she likes them, in the glass containers with the lids. I think there’s enough here for stew this weekend. That would be nice. 

As I rinse all the dishes before putting them in the dishwasher, I start to think through what I’m going to say to her about Karen. I know I need to tread lightly. I saw the shock and a little bit of hurt in her eyes when I said I didn’t think it was a good idea.

It’s not a good idea. But it’s also important that this discussion doesn’t end up being about something that it’s not. Donna is awesome at her job. She runs her office a lot different than I do, and that’s fine. There’s more than one way to skin a cat. I don’t butt in unless I think she’s really about to make a mistake, or if she asks. And she asked. So I’m going to tell her the truth. It’s one of the foundations of our marriage.

Once the dishwasher is running, I’m out of excuses to put this off. Plus Donna and Lulu seem to be having a great time in the bathroom, singing row, row, row your boat, loudly and off-key. I don’t want work issues to make me miss out on a family sing-a-long.

When I open the door, Lulu beams at me. “Daddy SING!”

I join in on the chorus, sitting down on the toilet seat and watching as Donna washes Lulu’s hair without missing a beat. She’s so pretty. And so sweet. And so smart. I don’t ever want her to feel like I’m undermining her authority or that I don’t trust her judgment. But I really do hope that she’ll listen to what I have to say and that she’ll trust mine. I have a lot more experience when it comes to staffing issues and there’s way more at play than just liking someone and wanting to work with them.

When the song comes to an end, Donna starts in on “I’m a little teapot” as she stands Lulu up and pours clean water over her to rinse her off. I’m ready and waiting with the big fluffy hooded towel to wrap up my Princess when she’s squeaky clean. We’re like a well oiled machine in here, able to execute our routine without talking about it. Of course either of us could and sometimes has to handle bath and bedtime on our own. But it’s just better when we do it together.

“Okay, I’d say you’re clean!” Donna announces picking Lulu up under the arms and depositing her into my lap where I wrap her up. She snuggles into my chest as I briskly dry her off as Donna drains the water from the tub.

“Do you want me to do that?” I offer half-heartedly. I don’t want to give up my snuggle time with Lulu but I want to make some sort of peace offering to Donna in advance of what I’m expecting to be a less than pleasant conversation. 

She looks at me in surprise, then gives me a little bit of a smile, that tells me that she knows exactly what I’m doing. We’ve worked together long enough to know the other operates. And now she knows that by making the offer, I’ve just admitted that I don’t think she’ll like what I have to say.

“No, thanks, I’ve got it.” She assures me.

“Ahkay. I’ll get her ready.” Before I stand up with Lulu I lean over and rub Donna’s back a bit. I just need a little reminder, for both of us, that this isn't a strategy. We are who we are, our lives and our work intersect. Sometimes it’s messy, but at the end of the day we are Josh and Donna. We love each other and we love Lulu. And we’re just trying to make the world a better place.

Lulu smiles sleepily at me as I stand and walk with her to her room. I lay her down on the big chair then grab some pjs and a diaper. 

When she spots what’s in my hand, her eyes flash angrily for a minute. She’s so much like Donna sometimes. Able to convey exactly what she’s thinking with just a look. I know she objects to the diaper. “It’s okay sweetie. Just for bedtime.” I’m relieved when she accepts my promise and lets me put it on her without fuss.

Once she’s cozy in her jammies, I pick her up and then settle back into the chair with her. “What should we read first babydoll?”

She points to the familiar green cover silently, so I begin. “In the great green room, there was a telephone. . . ”

Lulu smiles and points as I read, but is otherwise quiet. She must be tired tonight. We read a couple more board books, then Donna slips into the room as soon as I start reading the next chapter of The Secret Garden.

When I’m done reading, Donna kisses Lulu’s forehead and slips back out of the room. I give Lulu a few butterfly kisses before laying her down in her crib. Her eyes immediately close and I’m not even sure whether or not she hears me softly wishing her sweet dreams.

  
  


I take a deep breath as I join Donna in the living room. She’s made herself comfortable on the couch. There’s a half glass of wine on the coffee table next to her. Her feet are tucked underneath her and she’s scribbling on a notepad. She’s incredible.

I clear my throat a little and she looks up at me. I have a sense of foreboding that I push aside. I hope I’m just being silly.

“Well. I guess we need to talk?” She says it like it’s a question but it’s not really. We’ve committed to this. To having discussions even when at times we’d both rather ignore little issues, to look away and to pretend they don’t exist. But one thing we’ve learned, without a doubt, is that it makes it more painful in the long run.

“Yes, I suppose so.” I agree leaning against the back of the wingback chair.

“Come over here.” Donna pats the couch next to her. “We’re not going to have a fight. RIght? You’re going to listen to my ideas. I’m going to listen to what you think about them. We’re going to have a conversation, and figure it out. Just like we always do.”

“Right.” I do find her words reassuring. I take a seat on the couch and Donna immediately shifts so she’s leaning against me. Reflexively I wrap my arm around her waist. Yes, I’m feeling better and better.

“Okay. Here’s my list.” She holds up her notepad so I can see it. “These are the qualities I want in a deputy. Trustworthy, Curiosity, Organized, A Go-getter, Intelligent. Autonomous, but willing to take direction. I need someone that I can count on to see what needs to be done and to make sure it gets done. Someone that will embrace the philosophy and work ethic of our office. Someone that will work closely with me, but also be able to work independently. I don’t have a lot of spare time to have to train someone. I need someone ready to go. Now, don’t you think Karen meets all those requirements?”

“Actually, no, I don’t. Not all of them.”

“No? I thought you liked her.” She sounds a little hurt.

“I do like her. Can I explain why that’s not enough?”

“Please do.”

“Karen is a very nice woman. She’s absolutely an asset to your office. But that doesn’t mean she’s ready to be your deputy. She’s absolutely proven that she’s trustworthy. She’s smart and organized. She does a good job with the tasks you give her. And I’m sure she does them well. Probably even goes above and beyond sometimes, right?”

“Yes!”

“And that’s great. But she hasn’t been a go getter. She has a certification as an Administrative Assistant from UDC, right?”

“Yes.”

“She got that when she was 20 years old. Then she worked for the Department of Labor for 6 years, correct? And now she’s worked three more for you.”

Donna nods, a little hesitantly.

“And in that time has she ever thought about going back to school?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, she saw you go back to school. To finish your degree. She didn’t ever mention that she’d like to do the same? Surely she could see that you’d have supported her. Done anything you could to help.”

“Yes. Of course I would have.”

“I know.” I reassure her. “The thing is it’s not just that without the degree, she’s not qualified. It’s that it shows she’s not ready.”

I see a bit of a spark of anger in Donna’s eyes. And it solidifies my suspicion that at least part of the reason she wants to promote her assistant is to prove a point. I’m just not sure how aware Donna is of that reason, or who exactly she’s trying to prove the point to, me or herself?

“I didn’t have my degree when Helen hired me!” Donna reminds me briskly. “Do you think I wasn’t ready?” There’s a tinge of hurt in her voice but not much. I don’t think she really questions whether or not I believe in her-- but there’s just enough that I want to make one hundred percent sure.

“It’s not the same. When Helen hired you, you weren’t in the same job you started in. You’ve always been a go-getter. You came to New Hampshire. You hired yourself. You absorb information like a sponge. You constantly sought out new tasks and ways to grow. You sucked every morsel from your job as my assistant and when there was no more to be had you moved on. Can you say that about Karen? Does she have a hunger to do more? Is she always looking to grow or is she  _ just _ a really good assistant?”

“Hmmpf.” She responds noncommittally, so I go on.

“I think if you ask her to do this, she’ll try, because she is a good assistant and she wants to please you. But I think she’d be more helpful, and happier, in the role she’s in. I don’t think she’s really looking for anything more than to be the best assistant she can be.”

I stop there and let Donna think it over. I’m trying to keep this discussion focused on Karen I’m prepared to wait while Donna thinks it over. I don’t want to convince her. I just want her to understand my point. 

“So if I posted the job and she applied?”

“Honestly, Donna, I’d be really surprised if Karen applied, unless you’ve already suggested it to her. But if she does then you review the resumes, and interview, then hire the best candidate. Donna, whatever you decide I’ll support you. But my advice is not to just offer her a promotion that’s several steps beyond her current position. You’d just be setting her up to fail.”

She stiffens a bit and my gut warns me that we’re moving from the professional to the personal. But Donna’s voice is soft when she asks the question I’ve been dreading all night.

“Did you think I’d fail? Is that why you never promoted me?”

“Ah, Donna. No. That wasn’t it.” I quickly reassure her and she relaxes a bit so I decide to try to keep this light. “ And can I remind you that you never applied for a different job at the White House. You just hounded me for a raise.”

“Which you never gave me!” 

I turn so I can look at her. I don’t really want to fight about this, so I need to see her eyes. They’ll tell me whether this is a deep old wound that needs some healing or just a slight itch that we need to scratch.

“You know the GS pay scale is extremely regimented based on education and experience. You know I didn’t have the power to give you a raise. Right?”

“Yes, I know.” She sighs, a small smirk playing about her lips. Ah. Just an itch. I’m relieved. 

“And I didn’t want a different job. I wanted to work with you. And . . .” She trails off with a shrug.

“And?” I prompt her. We’ve talked about this a little, and I don’t think there are really any major leftover issues we need to work out, but since it’s come up, I want to talk about it. This is part of being married, of being honest with each, of not being scared to tell each other how we are feeling.

“And, I wasn’t really qualified to be an Assistant Deputy.”

“You made a wonderful Deputy Deputy Chief of Staff. But no, you didn’t have the right credentials for anything more than Senior Assistant to the Deputy Chief of Staff for Strategic Planning as long as you stayed at the White House.”

“No. I didn’t.” She agrees slowly.

I can’t help but feel a pang whenever I think about her leaving me back then. But we talked about this in Hawaii. We both have some regrets for the way we handled it, but we’ve forgiven each other, and we recognize that everything in our past is what got us to this point.

I give her hand a squeeze. “As painful as it was, you made the right decision to leave. Working for the Vice-President gave you the opportunity to develop new skills and polish the ones you already had. It was exactly what you needed professionally.”

“I know. But it was really hard. And I hate that I hurt you.”

“I know. But I’m really proud of you. I’m proud of all you’ve accomplished. And I proud that you finished your degree, so no stupid payscale is ever going to hold you back again.”

“Yeah, me too. But it is kind of crazy that I was eligible to be Helen's Chief of Staff without a degree, but that I would have had a hard time getting hired as an Assistant Deputy.”

“I know. It’s just all about the difference between executive office staff and general services staff. It’s why I could work through the shutdown and you couldn’t.”

“I know. I did read all about this when Helen first offered me the job. I wanted to make sure I could actually take it. And it’s why I could hire Karen as my deputy even if she only has a certification and not a degree. But you’ve given me a lot to think about.”

“So. We’re good, right?”

This whole conversation hasn’t been as bad as I feared it might be. But I want to make sure that I’m not deceiving myself. 

“We’re good, Josh. I haven’t been carrying around unresolved anger for the last 3 years. I didn’t come up with the idea to promote Karen to try to prove a point to you. I just hadn’t looked at it objectively. I guess I just sort of assumed that she was like me, and just needed an opportunity.”

“You know I wish I could have given you a better one back in the day.”

“Josh! You gave me the greatest opportunity of all. You took a chance on me when you had absolutely no reason to. Thank you.”

She leans over and gives me a kiss. So I wrap my arms around her and hold her tight. “You’re welcome.”

“Are we done talking about work now?” Donna whispers in my ear, then traces the shell of it with her tongue.

“Yes, Please.” I answer in a voice two octaves higher than normal.

“Good. Because I’d like to remind you of the benefits to me no longer being your assistant.”


	8. Head Start

I’m trying to move around the room as quietly as I can, but I feel Josh’s eyes on me. 

“You can turn the light on you know. I’m awake.”

“I’m fine. I don’t want to bother you.” I insist right before I hit my toe on the bed frame. “Ouch, shit.” I hiss.

At that Josh turns his light on. “Are you okay, you stubborn woman?” Josh asks, lightly chuckling. It’s a change from the hyper-protective Josh and just for a moment I miss the days when he’d freak out at the slightest hint I was in pain. I guess watching me go through child-birth finally convinced him I’m stronger than I look.

“I’m fine.” I assure him as I finish gathering my clothes. It really is much easier in the soft glow from his bedside lamp, but it’s early, he should sleep as long as he can. Once I have them all around, I lay them over the chair, walk over to the bed, lean down and give him a quick kiss. “You should go back to sleep,” I tell him as I turn off the light before walking into the bathroom. It’s really very early. He could probably sleep another hour.

I step into the shower, and tilt my head back under the water. A few moments later I hear the door open and close, then Josh steps in. I keep my eyes closed as I work on rinsing the soap from my hair and try not to startle as he runs his hands over my breasts.

“We don’t have a lot of time you know.” I warn him.

“I know.” He answers as his hands slide around to rub my ass a bit before pulling me close. “I just need a few more minutes with you.”

“Josh, it’s not even 5 in the morning! Wouldn’t you rather be asleep?” I taunt.

“You know better than that.” He whispers huskily just before his lips crash on to mine.

We kiss for a few minutes before he pulls away with a sigh. “Turn around, I’ll wash your back.”

He soaps me up while I work some conditioner through my hair. I really wish we had more time. But wheels up is in 90 minutes. Reluctantly, I rinse off, then give him a quick kiss.

“I’m sorry. I gotta . . .”

“I know. Go ahead.”

While I towel off, I hear the top of his shampoo pop and him scrubbing his hair, then a few minutes later he sticks his soapy head out. “You’re doing the American Legion Pancake Breakfast?”

“Yeah.”

“And then the Coffee Bean Caucus?”

“Yes." 

"And the Corn Growers Expo?”

“Well we’re going to squeeze in a trip to the Expo before the speech at the new Headstart Center but she’s not speaking at the Expo. Are we sure it’s a good idea to have Matt skip it?”

“He’s not taking the pledge this year. I think the no show is our safer bet. And with no challenger there’s nothing to be had from drawing attention to it now. Having Helen out there will be enough. She’s got some good lines about family farming being a precious way of life, right?”

“Of course.” I reassure him.

“When will you be back?”

“Hopefully before 6pm. Helen wants to be home by dinner.”

"That’s a tight trip.” 

He sounds a bit worried, even though we’ve already had this discussion more than once. And if I’m honest, it warms me just a little. I do like it when he worries about me. As long as he doesn’t try to control me.

“We’ll be fine.” I tell him as I finish my make-up and head back into our room to get dressed. By the time I’m finished he’s coming out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. Completely predictably, he drops it and shakes his package at me. Sometimes I swear he’s a just a Frat boy at heart.

“Very nice, babe.” I offer as I slap him on the butt as I walk back into the bathroom to blow dry my hair.

When I finish, I find Josh in the kitchen dressed in a nice suit, drinking coffee and reading a briefing book, no trace of the frat boy remains. 

He stands up and gives me a travel cup of coffee.“You’ll get some yogurt and fruit on the plane?”

“Yes.”

“And make sure you eat something for lunch?”

“Yes, dear.”

‘Remember it’s a marathon not a sprint. This is only February.”

“I know.”

“I love you.”

“Love you too.”

He grabs me and gives me one more hug and kiss before he lets me go so that I can peek in on Lulu before I leave. I wish I could kiss her goodbye but that would be selfish. She’s sound asleep and I’m sure Josh wants to get as much reading done as he can before she wakes up.

He walks me to the door, and opens it for me, but before I can walk through it, he addresses Jackie.

“Take care of her today, okay?”

“Yes of course, sir.”

Then he lets me go, and I’m on my way. On the ride over to the White House, I know I should prep myself for the day but it's only going to be a 5 minute ride this early, and I can’t help but just sit here and marvel at how lucky I am to have an incredible job, an incredible guy, and an incredible child. I have everything I could ever want. I'm the luckiest woman alive and I feel like I can conquer the world.

As the car stops under the portico, I grab my briefcase. I’m ready to do this.

I’m pleased to find Annabeth and Ned in the office waiting for me. “Good morning, you two! Ready for a great day?”

“Sure am.” Annabeth responds in a chipper voice. We can pretty much always count on her for positivity. She still doesn’t love public speaking, but she makes a great communications director.

“Yeah,” Ned answers slowly but agreeably. He looks a little tired. Then again, he always looks a little tired. He’s not that excitable, but he’s a good foot soldier. He's turned out to be steady, dependable. I wonder if we can get him to step up, do more? If he’s got a higher gear, we could probably use an intern to manage some of the correspondence he handles, and we could hire someone else for the body man type duties. I know that he and Josh don’t have a great history but it’s been fairly amiable of late and it’s all hands on deck over in the West Wing.

While I’m thinking about it, I dash into my office to make a quick call. When I’m done, I flip through the resumes for tomorrow’s interviews, then slide them into my briefcase. I’ll probably have some down time on the plane. It won’t hurt to go over them again. And maybe Helen will want to talk about the candidates. She’s said it’s my deputy, but this is a small office, I’m not going to hire someone without seeing how they interact with the First Lady first.

“Donna.” Jackie gets my attention as I’m looking through my desk one last time, “Bluebonnet’s on her way.”

“Excellent.” I follow her back into the lobby of our office. “ Alright guys, let’s go.” 

When we get to the foyer, Annabeth immediately wrangles the Press into their vehicle. We don’t have the full group, but the majority will make this trip with us given that POTUS doesn’t have any public appearances on his schedule today.

A few moments after we do, Helen arrives looking sharp and ready to go. She’s wearing a baby blue suit and her hair is in a french twist. It’s her armor, and she looks ready for battle. I know that she doesn’t really enjoy this, and she wasn’t excited about this trip in particular, but she’s ready to do her part in making sure we have another four years to change the world. I admire her so much.

Without a word I fall into place next to her as the detail sweeps us out to the cars for the twenty minute trip out to Andrews.

“Good Morning!” I eventually greet her as we settle into the back of the vehicle.

“Early morning, Donna.” She chuckles at me.

“Yes, but we’ll be home by dinner this way.” I remind her.

“Just promise me some Starbucks at some point.”

“You know I don’t like to make promises. But I’ll do my best.”

“Alright. I guess it’s all worth it as long as I’m home before Peter’s awards presentation tonight.”

“Now, that, we’ll make it happen. The benefit of having your own plane and all.” I reassure her. “So, is Peter excited?”

“Oh, you know, as excited as a teenage boy gets I guess. He HAS asked me if I’m going to be there a half dozen times in the last 24 hours so you know it must be important to him.”

“So the new school is working out then?”

“Yes. It seems like he’s finally got his footing. I am really grateful to Josh for convincing Matt that private school would be okay for High School. Junior High was pretty miserable for a while, but things are looking up.”

“Well, you know Josh takes his uncle duties pretty seriously. We really love your kids.”

“I know. Believe me, it’s what’s made this whole thing bearable.”

“And Miranda’s okay on her own this morning?”

“Oh yeah. She’s pretty excited to have Matt helping her get ready and she has big plans for after school with Nanny Maria. She’s promised me a surprise for dinner.”

“Oh! That should be fun.”

“Last time she surprised us we had 10 alarm chili. And you know if Matt says it’s hot. It’s HOT.”

‘Well, then, thank you for sparing us that experience.”

“No problem. Can you imagine Josh eating it?”

“He’d do it for Miranda.”

“Not that. I wouldn’t do that to him.”

The car pulls to a stop and I glance out the window. Seeing the Presidential plane on the tarmac always gives me chills even if it’s not technically Air Force One without him on board. It’s still a really nice ride.

“Give them a minute to get cameras ready. We’ll stop at the top and give them a nice shot with the sunrise behind the plane.” I tell Helen as she reaches for the door.

Helen stops at the top of the stairs and waves. She’s got a big smile on her face but under her breath she makes a barking noise. As we turn to head inside, she smiles at me. “I’m like a trained poodle. Do I get a treat?”

“Yes. You do.” I tell her as we head into the study and find our seats. A few minutes later there is a tap on the door.

“Come in.” I quickly answer, without checking with Helen. Her eyebrows go up in surprise. Even though she says she hates it, she’s become used to being deferred to. But if this is what I’m expecting, I know this time she won’t mind.

Helen’s eyes light up as the steward walks in and sets a tray with four Starbucks to-go cups on the desk before walking back out. She’s grinning as she reaches for the cup with her name on it.

“How did you do that?” She asks, a little amazed.

“Oh, I had a hunch you might like some Starbucks. I called from the office and had a steward pick it up while we were on the way here so that it would be waiting for us. Venti Skinny Vanilla Latte, extra foam, right?”

“Donna. You are the best.” Helen insists as she grabs her cup and a straw from the tray. 

I can’t help but smirk as she pulls the stopper out and slides the straw in. I used to think she was crazy for drinking hot coffee with a straw, but she’s right, it helps avoid teeth stains and keeps your lipstick from getting too smudged. She’s converted most of the women of the West Wing, much to Josh’s amusement.

“Thanks. We deserve a little treat for taking on Iowa for the guys. Do you want me to get Annabeth and Ned in here for a meeting or do you want a little peace and quiet first? We’ve got four hours so there’s no rush.”

“Let’s wait on the meeting until we’re closer. I’m pretty sure Matt will be calling soon. Getting the kids off to school isn’t exactly his forte.”

“Okay-- I’ll give you some space and go deliver these drinks.”

. . . . . .

Helen pauses again as we leave the plane in Des Moines, this time without the barking noises. She waves quickly and then makes her way down the stairs, as I follow behind. I slide into the car after her and immediately pull note cards out of my pocket

“Okay, our first stop will be at the American Legion Pancake Breakfast. You’re introducing Congresswoman Cindy Bosnell, 3rd Congressional District. This is one of the seats we picked up in the midterms. Do you want to look at the notecards again or shall I just leave them on the podium?”

“Let me read them again, please.” Helen responds, holding out her hand. Once I’ve handed them to her she flips through them quickly repeating them quietly to herself. A few minutes later she hands the cards back to me. “Okay, I’ve got it.” She assures me.

Helen animatedly recites the introduction from memory, smiling and pausing at just the right moments. She really is a good public speaker, especially when she has good material. I really need to send Toby a pie or something.

“Bravo!” I tell her as she finishes, and she takes a slight, sarcastic bow.

“I really like whoever we are using these days.” Helen offers, “these remarks all feel very natural.”

“Yes. That’s exactly what I was just thinking. Her name is Jessica Spencer. She’s a recent graduate from Columbia. I spoke to Josh a few weeks ago and he’s agreed that if you’d like, we can move her to the First Lady’s office full time. Would you like that?”

“Yes indeed. I hardly needed to tweak the speech for later at all. And with the number of remarks that I’ll be giving it would be nice to have the consistency. Please make the arrangements.”

“Excellent. I will. . . . Ah, here we are.”

When the car comes to a complete stop, Helen waits for Ned to come open the door. Then she confidently strides into the building with the three of us following behind.

I’m pleased to see that there is a small gathering of on-lookers outside the venue to greet her. Having a crowd helps drive local press coverage and we want all the free press that we can get.

Inside Helen is shown to the stage, while the rest of us are given a table at the rear. She makes her introduction with poise and good humor, to arousing applause. Then she smiles graciously as she sits and listens attentively, her plate of pancakes untouched. I need to make sure she gets something to eat later.

Representative Bosnell’s speech highlights what she’s done for the community in her first year and gives a lot of credit to the Administration for our help in passing several laws that have been very popular here. I’m very impressed and I take a note to make sure that Ms. Bosnell’s on our radar. This is exactly the kind of energy that we need in Congress to continue our agenda.

Ned finishes his plate of pancakes just as the speech is wrapping up.

On the way out of the building, Helen mingles and greets the group, but in no time we are on our way to the next venue. This is how the whole day will be. Barely a moment to breathe.

“The coffee bean caucus is next. You’re ready for another cup of coffee, right?” I ask lightly.

“Are you going to actually let me drink it?”

“It’s not me, you have to ask you know, it’s the secret service.”

“I know. I probably won’t have time anyway. This is just a quick grip and grin, right?”

“Right. We’re just making some appearances. Don’t want anyone saying we ignored the first state.”

We manage to keep the coffee stop to under a half an hour, and we are on our way again. Helen pouts a little as Ned follows us out of the dinner with a large cup in his hand.

“You can get something at the expo.” I promise her. “I already cleared it with Jackie. Since there are so many food vendors and no one knows what you’d pick they feel pretty secure that it couldn’t be poisoned.”

“Are you trying to bribe me with cotton candy?” She laughs.

“Is it working?”

“No. But have a volunteer pick up a couple bags for the kids. I can’t come back empty handed.”

. . . . . .

Helen walks through the expo leisurely, stopping to examine the farm equipment and listen to the vendors. She bites her tongue when she hears farmers and lobbyists extol the virtues of ethanol. They’ve been sold a bill of goods, but now isn’t the time to address that. I move her along quickly before she has to answer any questions about why we haven’t increased funding in that regard.

Finally, we are back on the road from Webster to Des Moines. Helen reads through the speech for the opening of the Children's Headstart Center. She’s the keynote speaker for this one, so she won’t be memorizing it, but she likes to be very familiar with her remarks.

When she’s done she smiles at me. “This is really good.” 

“Yes it is.”

“I’m glad we are ending with this event. I could totally skip all the others. I hate campaigning. But this. Getting more funding for education so we can open a head start center in a community that really needs it. That makes it worth it.”

“Well, as Josh always says. The first rule of governing is you’ve got to get elected.”


	9. Future Statesmen

“I don’t know if you care,” Donna calls out from the living room, “but you officially won the Iowa Democratic Caucus.”

I poke my head in from the kitchen. “ We did.” I remind her with a grin. She immediately grins back at me.

“Yes. We did.”

I know she’s pleased with herself. And she deserves to be. From all accounts, Helen’s trip to Iowa was everything we wanted it to be. Although it was a bit of a gamble, Matt got full credit for showing up because Helen was there. I had worried a bit that sending her might have led to a process story about the fact that we sent a surrogate. But Helen was so good that all the news outlets covered the substance. It doesn’t hurt that the press loves her. The country too. And that’s Donna’s doing. She’s molded Helen into the people’s first lady. Strong and dynamic, but nurturing and caring. She took Helen’s motherly instincts and turned them into an agenda that the country rallies behind, and she did it without making Helen look matronly. My wife is incredible.

Once the dishwasher is running, I join her on the couch.

“You know, seeing how we were unopposed, I liked our chances, but in case I didn’t say it. Good job out there.” I lean over and give her a kiss on the mouth to seal my praise.

She chuckles a bit at me. “Oh, you’ve said it several times, but hey, if it gets me more kisses, feel free to keep it up.”

I give her a couple more kisses, just because I can, before I turn back towards the t.v. to watch the returns. Unfortunately, they’ve just gone to commercial.

“Are they making any predictions for the Republicans yet?” I ask Donna as I flip the channel to look for other coverage.

“No. It seems like the field is pretty wide open. Do you have a prediction?”

I give her a superior look-- “ _ I  _ don’t pretend to understand the minds of Republicans.”

“ _ Josh _ .” She scoffs, “come on. You knew it was going to be Richie, when not very many people did. And you beat Vinick, when no one thought you could. It’s just you and me . . . who do you think they’re going to nominate?”

“Jim Arkin is going to win Iowa, and probably New Hampshire. But Ray Sullivan will carry the South. Morgan Mitchell will stay in the race long enough to keep things interesting but he’ll ultimately drop out and endorse Sullivan, who will end up being their nominee. He came so close four years ago. And he’ll pander even more to their base without Vinick to hold him back.”

“Are you worried?”

“Nah.”

“ _ Josh _ ?” She gives me a look, reminding me that this is where it’s okay to let go of the image I try so hard to project.

“You know, I’m  _ always _ worried. Last time was a close election, and our numbers have been so volatile. You never really know what voters will do. And tt’s such a fine line-- projecting the confidence that we’ll win, but without incurring the wrath of the thing by actually stating that we will.”

My little speech comes out all in one breath but it feels good to let it out. Donna squeezes my arm.

“I have faith in you.” She reminds me in a solid voice. “ And I have faith in Matt. And I still pray.”

“For health and strength?”

“Yeah.”

“Cuz we’ll steal the rest?”

“You bet your ass.” She grins at me, and as always, I feel like I can accomplish pretty much anything.

“God, I love you.” I tell her leaning over and kissing her resoundly. She kisses me back for a few seconds before moaning softly.

At Donna’s moan, Lulu looks up from the toys she’s playing with. “Mama?”

Her question takes Donna out of the moment and lands her squarely back in Mom-land.

“Bath Time.” She announces to Lulu, who gets up and runs from the room in delight.

“Five more minutes?” I beg.

Donna just chuckles at my request as she gets off the couch to gather our daughter.

. . . . . 

Once Lulu is down for the night, Donna and I settle back on the couch to continue watching the returns. Even though Matt is virtually unchallenged, we really do want to keep an eye on what’s going on with the Republican side of things. We can gain a lot of information from how their primaries break down.

“I’m a little surprised Senator Mitchell is running in third.” Donna offers.

“I think he’s running for the VP slot.” I suggest. 

“How can you tell?” She asks curiously, and I realize she hasn’t really seen politics this way. This really is a good chance to teach her something new.

“Well, there are times when people get in a race early just to signal their interest for higher office. Their speeches, ads, and appearances focus on ideology. Usually they stay fairly positive-- how they are going to fix things. If they challenge the other candidates it’s about their platform positions, and stays fairly friendly, they leave open doors for working together in the future. And when they get out of the race they throw their support to the front runner.”

“Ah. . .”

“Obviously that didn’t happen in the last two Presidental elections on our side. I can tell you that in ‘98 a lot of operatives thought that Bartlet was in the race looking to be Secretary of Treasury or something. When Wylie dropped out, he might have been looking for a VP slot under Hoynes. He probably figured that if Bartlet wouldn’t stay in that much longer, and if he did, Hoynes would never pick him as a running mate.”

“Do you think Wylie was surprised that Bartlet picked Hoynes?”

“Not if his campaign manager was paying attention! Hoynes was our shot at winning the South. Wylie was of no use to us.”

“I see.”

“Did you know that we talked about replacing the VP in ‘02?”

“Yes.”

“Of course you did. Do you know why we didn’t?”

“Because President Bartlet wouldn’t let you.”

“Well, yeah, but I didn’t really want to anyway. I mean the numbers didn’t look good, but we didn’t have any real reason to replace Hoynes at that time. And the optics to do it only for political reasons would have been costly. And honestly, if his affair had come out then, even replacing him might not have helped!”

“Unless you could have got Fitzwallace. I think you might have been okay with him.” Donna speculates.

“Except we didn’t really even know if he was a Democrat!” I volley back, enjoying a bit of sparring.

“This is true. He really wasn’t a politician. He was a good man. He just wanted to serve his country.” 

Donna’s voice catches a little and I squeeze her in a little closer. Sometimes I forget that she actually knew him a little better than I did, or at least she feels like it. They ended up fairly close on the trip. I know she still corresponds with his wife at least once a year.

She takes a deep breath and moves the conversation back to safer ground. “So did Sullivan do that with Vinick last time? I have to admit I wasn’t really paying that much attention to the Republicans.”

“You threatened to vote for Vinick!” I remind her. “You stood in my office and told me I had a year to convince you not to!”

She laughs at me. “And you did. I voted for Matt.” 

“You put me through the wringer first.” I grumble a bit, even though I’m smiling. Her face is flushed and her eyes are sparkling. This is one of my favorite things, talking politics with the woman I love. Especially now that it can end with us naked between the sheets.

“You loved it!” She quips, teasing me. 

It causes a little pang. Does she really think that? I hated it. There was very little joy in running Matt’s campaign during the primary, it was by far the hardest thing I’ve ever done professionally, and I had to do it without her. It was so singularly awful that if we’d lost, I might have been done in professional politics for good, even if somehow there had still been a place for me. And I’m not sure there would have been a place for me.

“No, I really didn’t. I missed you every day.” I insist softly before moving the conversation back to where we were. “But, back to Sullivan. Yeah, that’s basically what he did. He was their religious right standard bearer. He said all the things that needed to be said to keep that part of their base in line. But don’t let those words fool you. He’s a crafty politician. By all accounts it really wasn’t his turn. He wasn’t that high in the Republican party. He’d only been a governor for a few years.”

“So how’d he end up their VP candidate?”

“The other Republicans fought too hard against VInick-- they slung too much mud for his moderate positions. We’d have killed them with ads showing their own VP candidate attacking their nominee. They just couldn’t walk it back-- they’d gone all in to try to keep him from it. But it backfired. Vinick just sounded so reasonable. And his clean, positive campaign attracted people. And let’s face it- Arnold Vinick is just an outstanding statesman.”

“So it turns out making him Secretary of State was brilliant.”

“Yes. It’s incredible that Matt did it for the right reasons. He really did want to have Arnie Vinick’s insight and guidance on those decisions. But it turned out to be the greatest political decision he could have made. I’d be  _ really _ worried if we had to run against him again.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I don’t know where we’d be in Kazakhstan without him. AND no matter where it was, he’d have had three years to zing us for every wrong decision. And for all the credit that I’ve got, I still feel like we got lucky. San Andreo turned the tide. Without it, VInick would have won.”

“I don’t know. I still think you might have pulled it off.”

“I don’t know, Donna. There were still so many undecideds. And Leo didn’t give us the bump we needed.”

“It still hurts you to admit that, doesn’t it?”

“I wanted him to be VP so badly. I wanted to appoint him after Hoynes resigned but he wouldn’t listen to me. I almost went behind his back and took it to the President. I wonder what would have happened if I had.”

“The same thing that happened with Berryhill.”

“No, actually, I don’t think so. Berryhill would have been a bit of a fight, but they’d have had to confirm him if we nominated him. The Republicans bluffed and we fell for it. They came at us with hypothetical votes based on some Democrats' own ambitions. Everyone, including Democrats, figured they could beat Russell. Then the Republican leadership used that to give Bartlet an option to avoid a fight. If we’d nominated Leo, the Republicans would have jumped at the chance to beat him up in the confirmation process. They’d have dragged it out as long as possible. I don’t know if they would have given us Russell as a free pass. They’d have kept the spot vacant for as long as possible, which would keep Haffely next in the line of succession. But I think that we could have won the fight eventually.”

“But possibly at a very high cost.”

“Yes. That’s why Leo wouldn’t even consider it.”

“So why was he willing to do it for Matt?”

“He didn’t want to at first, for some of the same reasons. He warned me that we’d have to spend a lot of time overcoming his past. But I convinced him. We really did need some gravitas on the ticket.” 

“But Baker was your first choice.”

“Yes. Honestly, he was meant to be the nominee that year. And he had some momentum with that write in campaign at the convention. If it hadn’t been for Dottie’s health, I think he’d have stolen the nomination. So when it came to the choice for VP we thought he could be a unifying force. Plus he had the resume and Matt wanted him. Obviously.”

“So any regrets that he’s the running mate now?”

“You’re thinking of Amy’s prediction that Carol Gelsey would be manna from heaven?”

“It crossed my mind. I’d love to have a female vice-president to set us up for four years from now.”

“I know. But Baker is polling strong. There was no reason to even consider replacing him.”

“Which means that barring a scandal, he’ll be our candidate in four years.”

“Assuming we win.”

“Which I do. So, will you run Baker’s campaign in four years?”

“No. Bruno runs Baker’s campaigns.”

“Bruno is retired.”

“By then maybe I will be too.” I tell her gently.

“ _ Josh _ !” She scoffs again, but I’m serious.

“Donna--I’m about done with this.”

“Come on Josh, you can’t be serious. This is what you live for.”

“Not any more. You and Lulu . . . and hopefully another baby. That’s what I live for. And this is my last campaign. . . . unless the candidate’s last name is Lyman.”

“So you’re thinking about running for office yourself?”

“No. Not me.”

I stare at Donna intently waiting for the light bulb to go off.

“Me?” She squeaks as she realizes what I’m implying. “You want me to run for something?”

“Yes. And you’re gonna win.”

“JOSH!” She exclaims loudly before falling into shocked silence. I have to say, I’m a little surprised she hasn’t seen this coming. And I’m all the more glad I’m planting the seed now, so it has plenty of time to grow.

“Shhh, baby, it’s okay. Don’t be scared. You’ll be great. And we have lots of time to figure out where to start. But I believe in you. You’re gonna change the world.”

“But . . .” she’s still a little stunned, but a smile starts to grow on her face as I see the wheels turning. Watching her, my own smile grows to match. “Really?” she finally asks.

“Yes, really. You’ll be incredible. But let’s keep this between you and me right now, okay? A good politician doesn’t tip their hand until they’re ready. And it’s not quite time yet. Right now, this is what we need to be doing.” I gesture back to the t.v. where the commentator has just reminded viewers that Matt won the Iowa Caucus.

“Okay.” She agrees, snuggling in even closer, but I can tell she’s starting to imagine the future


	10. Sunday Interlude

“You’re brilliant.” Josh mutters under his breath. “Have I told you that lately? Utterly brilliant.”

I just grin at him as we pause at the entrance ever so slightly and wave at the press. Lulu blows them kisses and waves frantically at Chris Seeger when she spots her.

Once we are through the door, we slide into a back row, while the Bartlets and the Santos family continue down the aisle to the front.

“I can’t believe you got Matt to agree to this.” Josh continues whispering under his breath.

“It was more of a don’t ask, don’t tell situation.” I confess.

Josh’s eyes narrow as realization dawns on him. “Donna?”

“This isn’t a press event. You know he’d never agree to using church as a press event.” I insist.

“And yet, there is press out front.” Josh observes without any heat in his voice. “And the way I know there is press out front is that you made us all smile and wave at them.”

I give him one of my patented innocent grins. “I didn’t invite them!”

“Donna. It’s our press corps.” Josh smirks. “You told Amy.”

“You know. Now that you mention it, I believe I did mention to the campaign director that the first family would be joining the former first family for Mass in Manchester on the Sunday before the New Hampshire primary. Hey, you don’t suppose she thought that it would make a good photo op and sent the press, do you?”

“Matt’s gonna be pissed.”

“Helen will smooth it over. He’ll be fine. He doesn’t have to engage with them. It’s only photos. Abbey says that it’s not completely uncommon for there to be a photographer or two anyway, especially at times like this.”

“Like I said, brilliant.” Josh repeats, as the priest begins to pray in Latin.

Josh does a good job of keeping himself and Lulu quiet as the service drones on. There is an absolute prohibition of press in the building, and the parishioners all respect the Bartlets’ privacy, so I don’t have to worry about any pictures of the two of them spending an hour with an “I-Spy” book in their laps.

While they are doing that, I review the weekend in my head. Using the Bartlet farm as a home base for a quick New England swing really had been brilliant, if I do say so myself. 

Seeing the Boston Symphony on Friday night felt more like date night than campaigning anyway, but with Super Tuesday coming, any visibility in one of those states really is part of the game, and the Artistic Initiative Fund is a good cause.

The fact that the kids had dinner and a movie with Grandpa Jed and Grandma Abbey was icing on the cake for everyone. And I’m pretty sure they actually got cake too. And from what I hear, Miranda is going to lobby pretty hard to take a kitten home. As long as Josh and Lulu don’t get any ideas, I’ll be okay.

Plus I got to see Josh in a tux, so that’s always a win for me. And seeing him enjoy the music really is a double win. He says it always makes him feel close to Joanie. I wish I could have known her, from what Mom says, she was an incredible young woman. That his ability to enjoy music was taken from Josh for a time still breaks my heart a little. Thank God Stanely was right, and we get better. 

Saturday, on the other hand, felt like campaigning without a doubt. Matt, Amy and Josh spent their time at events in Vermont and New Hampshire, while Helen and I headed to Maine for the day. We participated in rallies and events across the state and met so many people! 

Maine has a great history of electing women. Unfortunately we really need to oust the incumbent. A female senator that claims to be a pro-choice Independent moderate, but who ends up voting with the Republicans most of the time doesn’t deserve our support. Luckily we have a great democrat ready to take her seat. Helen and I will be throwing all the support that we can towards her challenger.

Yesterday was a long day, but knowing that Lulu was with the Bartlets and that I’d get to sleep next to Josh at the end of it made it better. But I know it was a hint at what’s to come and it won’t always end with us together in a place we love. There are going to be a lot of nights at separate hotels in our future.

Josh looks over at me with his eyebrows raised as I sigh a bit. Then he smirks. I think he’s happy to know that I’m paying attention to the service about as well as he is. At least he has Lulu to keep him entertained. I’m pretty amazed at just how quiet the two of them are being. But then again, I shouldn’t be surprised at the fact that Josh still surprises me. He did such a good job of playing the chaotic grandstander for so long that I almost forgot that still waters run deep. I knew there was more to him, even while he tried to convince everyone otherwise.

It takes everything within me not to roll my eyes as the priest starts in on his third point, something about being subjective to one another. Hopefully he’s getting close to wrapping up. And hopefully there won’t be a quiz over brunch.

********

As soon as we get back to the farm, I head to the kitchen to make sure the oven started for the casseroles that Abbey put together last night, while Josh takes Lulu upstairs to get her changed. I start another pot of coffee brewing before I run upstairs to change myself.

When I get back to the kitchen in jeans and a comfortable sweater, Abbey is pouring the coffee into a carafe.

“Can you set the table?” She asks, pointing to the cupboard. I quickly get to work in the dining room and she joins me a few minutes later with the coffee and a couple pitchers of juice. Together we add baskets of muffins and bagels, along with bowls of fruit. While I gather the final touches, cream cheese and smoked salmon, she fries some bacon. Then just as we hear a knocking at the front door, we pull the casseroles out of the oven and take them to the other room.

“Be subject to one another!” Jed announces as he opens the door for Matt and Helen to join us.

“Indeed.” Matt agrees, while Helen and Abbey exchange a look.

“They were at the service, gumdrop.” She chides him gently, smiling at the children.

“So they were! Come in, come in.” He moves out of the way to give the Santoses room to take their parkas off. Once the outer gear has been removed and hung on the tree rack, Jed shepards them into the dining room, where Abbey and I have assembled the feast.

I really do enjoy cooking with her.

“This is really good, Mrs. Bartlet.” Peter offers politely, taking a second helping of the Southwest Breakfast Casserole.

“I thought you might like that. I got the recipe from your Mom. And I told you, you can call me Abbey when there aren’t people around.”

Peter looks over at his father, who nods slightly. 

“They aren’t people! They’re your parents!” Abbey chortles, causing Peter to give her a quick grin. I’m glad he’s comfortable with her. The poor kid doesn’t have very many people he can relax with.

“What about you Josh?” Abbey asks, gesturing to the dish.

“No thank you Abbey.” Josh offers primly, causing another round of laughter. By now everyone is well aware of Josh’s distaste for spicy food, but teasing him about it is always good for a laugh.

“Me!” Lulu chimes in. She’s finished everything that Josh gave her, but she didn’t have any of the casserole, I’m not sure she’ll like it, but you never know unless you try, so I put a small spoonful on her plate.

Everyone watches as she takes a forkful and puts it in her mouth. Two seconds later she spits it back out. “No! I don’t like it!”

“Lulu!” I admonish her. “That’s not nice. We don’t spit food out on our plates.”

Her eyes fill with tears, immediately distraught at being scolded. Ugh. I hate seeing her like this but she really has to learn manners. Still, I soften my tone. “You should try to swallow the bite in your mouth or if you really have to spit it out use a napkin. Okay, sweet pea?”

“Okay, Mama.” She nods solemnly. She looks around the room, with her lower lip trembling, to see if anyone’s mad at her, and all at once everyone trips over themselves to reassure her that they love her and that everything is fine. It’ll be a small miracle if I can manage to keep this child from being completely self-absorbed. A sibling really could be a good thing for her, although I’m starting to wonder if it’s ever going to happen, given that yet another month has passed and I’m not pregnant.

“Do you want some more fruit?” Josh asks Lulu.

“Yes, peas.”

Once Lulu’s back to munching on her favorites, the conversation shifts to yesterday’s events.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t join you for the town hall in Montpelier.” Jed tells Matt.

“That’s okay. We appreciated your appearance in Nashua. The Granite State loves you.” Josh quickly reassures him.

Everyone but Jed fully understands that he can’t do multiple appearances in multiple states on the same day. Abbey would have our hides if we even considered it.

“Yes, New Hampshire’s greatest son. You can help from right here.” Abbey insists.

Jed waves her off with a hand. “But tell me, Matt, how did it go?”

“It was good. A good chance to work through some of my stump speech material and get the feel with a friendly audience. You know, Amy and the Presidential voice.” He chuckles.

“No need to worry about that,” Jed promises, “you’ve got it down just fine.”

“Well, thank you. It felt good. It’s nice to be able to talk about a grand vision in a place where the audience welcomes a progressive message.”

“Yes, that’s true. Although they don’t seem to understand that getting elected doesn’t come with a magic wand. There is still a whole other branch of government to work with.”

“Don’t I know it.”

‘Well, at least you’ve got the house. And maybe Josh here can flip those last few seats in the Senate.” Jed offers with a grin towards Josh.

“I’ve been trying for almost a decade.” Josh grumbles. Nothing gets him more annoyed than trying to understand how the voters can split their tickets and think that we’ll get anything done.

“Enough politics at the table.” Abbey announces. “Miranda, have you convinced your parents to let you keep a kitten yet?”

“Kitty?” Lulu perks up as the topic turns to her favorite subject, while Matt, Helen, Josh and I each let out a low groan, and Abbey smiles wickedly. Sometimes she’s evil.

“Please, Mommy.” Miranda begs.

“Peas, Mama?” Lulu copies. I’m not even one hundred percent sure that Lulu understands the concept of keeping a pet at home, but if Miranda’s on board with something, Lulu is more than willing to go along.

Helen and I both give Abbey the evil eye.

“After your nap we’ll go pet the kitties in the barn.” Josh promises Lulu, who claps in delight, affirming my belief that she isn’t completely following the conversation.

“I’m all done.” Lulu announces. “I get down, peas.”

“A couple more minutes babydoll.” Josh informs her.

Miranda is silently pouting, having been told no, yet again, to a cat. I can’t tell her this, but she’d have a real advocate in Amy Gardner, who’d love to get photos of the first family adopting a pet. She’s brought up pet adoption events more than once. So maybe that’ll happen this summer for them.

“So what do you say, Peter?” Jed turns towards him. “Do you want to play chess this afternoon?”

“Yes, sir.” Peter lights up as he quickly answers. I think he really enjoys Jed’s company. They’ve had some good conversations over the years.

“How about you help clear the table first?” Matt suggests, standing up. “I’ll help you before I go.”

Josh stands up and gets Lulu out of her seat. We’ve got just enough time to get her down for a nap before we need to get ready for the last campaign stop of the weekend.

********

Amy is waiting out front with ten volunteers as we pull up in front of the Concord field office on our way to Plymouth. I’m glad we could do this. A lot of people work on a campaign without ever meeting the candidate in person. I know from experience it can change your life. 

The group applauds as we get out of the car. “Hello, everyone!” Matt shouts out to them. “Thank you so much for being here, and thank you for your hard work! Can you show me around the place?”

“Right, this way Mr. President.” Amy gestures and then turns and walks into the building. We follow her inside and the group piles in after us.

It’s a small office, even smaller than the Nashua office we had in ‘98. It’s basically one large room with several desks. One wall is lined with tables covered by yard signs and banners. Two small offices are at the back along with some restrooms.

.”Well, it’s a small office,” Amy starts, “but full of heart. Let me introduce you to everyone.” She runs through the group and Matt shakes hands with everyone. Helen follows suit, while Josh and I hold back a little. They are meeting the President and First Lady! No one is going to feel bad if we don’t shake hands.

When he’s done Matt beams at them. “I wish we could spend more time with you, but we need to get up to Plymouth for the rally. I just want you to know that we appreciate your hard work. The primaries might not seem like a big deal, but we can’t take it easy if we want to keep making progress for New Hampshire. I know I can count on all of you.”

As soon as he’s finished speaking Amy ushers us out the door, as we leave I hear one of her lieutenants giving instructions for canvassing for the afternoon. That was really smart of them. These guys will be excited to go out and tell everyone that they just met the President and that he cares about their state.

“There’s room for you in here Amy.” Matt tells her as he climbs into the Beast. Amy looks pleased. This will give us a chance to go over the details before we arrive.

As soon as we’re all buckled she launches right in-- “We’ll be at the Freedom Hill amphitheater, Representative Holksome is introducing you, and then Representative Guernsey will speak after you. Modified stump. Rah, Rah. And that’s it. Last one here before the primary.”

“Sounds good.” Matt responds with a smirk and a twinkle in his eye, that’s I know mean he’s up to something.. “ So Amy, I have a question for you.”

“Yes, sir?”

“Know anything about those photographers at church this morning?” 


	11. No More Talking

"Hey Stranger!" Amy greets me as she waltzes into my office with a big grin on her face.

"Hey you. How goes the battle?"

She gives me a funny little salute. "Here to give a field report to the commanding officer!" She announces with mock seriousness. I always liked it when she was silly.

"Okay, report away."

Then she smirks at me. "I meant the commander in chief." She laughs as she jerks her head towards the oval.

Ah. This is more like the Amy I remember. "Well, . . ." I start, trying to keep my temper in check and my tone neutral.

"God, Josh, I'm just kidding." She informs me with an eye roll as she plops into my visitor's chair. "I'm here to talk to you. The campaign's off to a good start. All our regional offices are up and running. We've had a presence in all the Super Tuesday States except California and Texas, which we'll take care of this weekend. But I would like to talk to you a little about the stump speech."

"Should we get Lou in here too?"

"Not quite yet. I think this might be better between the two of us to start."

"Okay, shoot." I offer, immediately regretting the unintentional continuation of the pun.

Amy smirks in appreciation but gets to the point. "I think the speech is a little flat."

"Ah."

"I mean, he still carries the crowd, but these are friendly audiences anyway. We want them talking about how great it was once they leave the venue. And we want the news to carry clips, not just report that they occurred."

"Right. What are you thinking?"

"I want Sam."

"Sorry, he's taken." I quip causing her to roll her eyes again. Sure, it's okay for _her_ to joke. "But seriously, I don't want Sam to get bogged down in speech writing. He's got a job."

"Okay but we have to find someone. The kid's okay for the bones but he's no Toby Zeigler."

I'm pretty sure "the kid" she's referring to is Otto. And I can't disagree with her assessment. He's good but he's not phenomenal. "What if we got Toby Ziegler?" I ponder aloud.

Amy perks up a little, then pauses. "I don't know. I mean, of course, I love the way he writes but I wonder if it would be too Bartletesque. And Toby's writing is pretty recognizable. Would we be asking for trouble? Is Toby still radio-active?"

She's got some points there. I don't think Toby _is_ radio-active, but I don't like giving the other side free ammo. We sit in silence for a few moments until I share another thought.

"Have you let Matt off the leash on the stump speech at all? You know he's pretty good at speaking off the cuff. Has he tweaked it himself?"

"Bits and pieces but it's not really flowing yet."

"Alright. I'll take care of it. I'll talk to Helen and we'll schedule a playdate for Miranda and Molly. I think if we leave their Dads in a room together, between the two of them they can make it sing."

"Alright. Let's see where that gets us."

"Anything else?"

"Nope. Big push this weekend. I hear you're joining us for part of it?"

"Yes. Mama Santos has summoned me, and I am to bring my daughter. So I'll be around."

"All right, pardner. Bring your boots." Amy instructs with a draw as she gets up to exit my office.

"You're kidding. Right?" I ask, stupidly, earning another eye roll from Amy as she closes the door behind her.

I hope so. I really hate cowboy boots.

. . . . . . . . 

I'm barely back into the groove when Margaret pokes her head in. "Donna's here."

"Great!" I don't know if this was scheduled or not but I'm always happy to see her, especially if it means I can stop reading this report on the results of our audit of the U.S. Postal Service's Fuel Consumption and Cost Risk Mitigation.

"She's got someone with her." Margaret offers, mysteriously. "A stranger."

"That's fine."

"I'm just saying . . . it's someone we don't know."

"I know what _stranger_ means Margaret!"

"Well . . ."

"Margaret! Let Donna in, please."

"Yes, sir." She answers in a snappy voice, leaving me to wonder if I've offended her. You never know with Margaret.

Donna walks in with a big grin and eyes sparkling, so I'm pretty sure she overheard the entire exchange. It amuses her to no end that Margaret runs things around here and keeps me on my toes. And she takes complete credit for Margaret staying on. She's right on both accounts and I'm grateful.

Trailing a bit behind Donna is a woman I'd guess to be in her late twenties or early thirties, maybe just a bit younger than Donna. She's wearing a tailored pantsuit with a bright red silk shirt. She's not as tall as Donna even though she's wearing heels. She has short brunette hair and glasses. Margaret's right- I have no idea who she is.

"Josh, I just stopped by to introduce Ashley Miller, she's interviewing to be my deputy, so I'm giving her a tour of the place."

"Ashley, this is the Chief of Staff, Josh Lyman, my husband."

"It's nice to meet you in person." Ashley says, reaching out to shake my hand. "I've heard a lot about you."

"From Donna?"

"No, actually. I work on the hill. Your reputation precedes you." She gives me a sassy little grin. She reminds me of someone but I can't quite figure out who.

"Who do you work for?"

'Currently, I'm a legislative deputy for Representative Harrison. Prior to that I worked in Gladman's office. And I started out as an aide in Mckenna's office."

"Oh, really when was that?"

"2005."

"Hmmm. That's about when Ryan worked there. Do you know Ryan Pierce, our Director of Legislative Affairs?"

That gets me another sassy smirk. "Yes, I do. In fact, he's the one that recommended me for this job with the First Lady."

And that's when it occurs to me that Donna might have just got herself her very own Ryan. Well, that worked out alright for me in the long run so, hopefully it will be just as good for Donna.

Once Donna and Ashley leave, I get back to my reading. God, it's never ending. I really didn't realize how much of this Leo and CJ had to do, here it is three years later, and even with farming more and more of it out as my staff gets better and better, on days like this it still feels like it's all I ever do.

Finally, the day ends and I'm able to leave. And I only have two more memos to read after Lulu and Donna go to bed.

I hoist my backpack over my shoulder as I open the door to Margaret's office.

"Okay, I'm out of here, go home."

"Aye, aye, captain."

From there I turn and walk to the connecting door, I rap lightly as I open it.

Matt looks up. "6:00 already?"

"Yep."

"Alright. Guess I'll take this with me." He pops a sticky note on the memo to hold his place then pops the folder into his briefcase.

Together we walk through Ronna's office, where he bids her and his current body man, Xavier, to go home. Eight to six is a ten hour day, but it's a far cry from the Bartlet years. I wonder if any of these staffers have any real idea just how good they've got it having a family man in the oval.

We exit the side door followed by Matt's detail.

"So what are you reading?" I ask him as we walk the colonnade towards the mansion.

"School vouchers."

"Ugh."

"You said it. So are you coming up or are you meeting Donna downstairs?"

"I didn't get a text so I assume I'm coming up. She was interviewing her final choices for deputy today. I'm not sure if she's done."

"Ah yes. I met someone today. Ran into them in the hall."

"Ashley Miller?"

"Sounds right."

"Yeah, Donna ran her by my office. She's the only one that Donna's brought around."

"Well, that probably means something."

"Probably."

"You guys staying for dinner?" Matt asks as we hit the second floor landing.

"Not that I know of." I respond as I head up the stairs. "But I'm not in charge."

Matt laughs as he heads home. "I know the feeling."

When I get to the third floor, the door to the game room is open. Donna and Helen are sitting on a couch while Lulu plays with Miranda in the doll corner.

"Daddy!" She shouts as I enter the room. I'll never get tired of her running to me and throwing her arms around me. I drop the backpack and scoop her up.

"Hi pumpkin. Did you have a good day?"

"Uh huh. We made a picture." Lulu points toward the easel where a paint coated piece of paper hangs. I hope I don't have to figure out what it is. It looks pretty abstract to me.

"Very nice." I walk over to Donna and plop down on the couch next to her. "Hi, baby." I offer with a quick peck on the lips.

Helen's lips quirk up. Even after all this time, she's amused by our public displays of affection. "Hey Helen."

"What? No kiss for me?" She offers in harassment.

"Kiss me!" Lulu demands with pursed lips and I quickly comply, giving her a loud smacking one to her delight.

"Anyway, Donna, any of the three are fine with me. It's your decision." Helen assures her as she stands. "You guys want to stay for dinner? It's spaghetti night."

"No thanks," Donna responds, "I've got sweet and sour meatballs in the crockpot at home."

"Oh. That sounds good. Well, have a good night, guys. See you tomorrow. Bye Lulu."

"Bye Aunt Hen! Bye!" Lulu waves exuberantly. As nice as it is to sit with my family, I'm ready to go. I give Donna a little nudge with my shoulder.

"Whaddya say ladies? Ready to go home?"

"You bet." Donna quickly responds.

"You bet." Lulu parrots, making us both smile.

"Okay. Lets go." I push myself up off the couch, managing to keep Lulu on one hip as I stand. Donna actually looks impressed when I turn and offer her my hand. She takes it and gracefully rises, not really needing my assistance. But I use the opportunity to pull her in close and plant a long kiss on her while Lulu giggles at us. "I missed you today." I tell her softly.

She smiles softly at me. "I saw you three times."

"I know. I missed you the rest of the time."

"I love you." Donna assures me in a low voice, placing another soft, light kiss on my lips. Lulu decides she doesn't want to be left out anymore and she leans in and puts one on my cheek. I give them both a squeeze. If I could stay in this moment forever I would, but Donna's stomach growls, reminding me that life goes on and we have practical needs.

"Somebody's hungry. Let's go."

"Me! I hungwy Daddy!" Lulu tells me excitedly.

"Me too. And Mommy's got meatballs all ready for us. So let's get home."

"Yeah!"

Donna gets Lulu's picture, then grabs her briefcase and as we walk out the door I grab my backpack before turning off the light. By the time we arrive in the foyer, the town car is waiting for us. Once I get Lulu buckle into her seat I take a look at the painting.

"So sweetie. This is very pretty. I like all the colors."

"Blue and yellow make gween." Lulu tells me, pointing to where the colors overlap.

"Yes. Blue and yellow make green. Good job." I tell her, making sure to pronounce the "r" carefully for her. At her two year old check-up Dr. Francis was impressed by the extent of her vocabulary and reassured us that not being able to say the 'r' sound was normal, but encouraged us not to reinforce the incorrect pronunciation.

I've been fighting the urge to figure out how to get Lulu to say "woot canal" on a phone call with Auntie CJ. Just the thought of it makes me chuckle.

Donna raises an eyebrow at me.

"Nothing." I insist.

"Daddy's a little silly tonight." Donna informs Lulu.

"Silly Daddy." She quickly agrees.

"Yes and silly Daddy is going to tickle you!" I tell her wiggling my fingers in her direction. Just the motion sets her off into giggles. Just like her mother. The sound fills my soul and I can't help the contented sigh that escapes me. I've got a good life.

. . . . . . . . . 

After we get Lulu down for the night, Donna and I flop down on the couch.

"So, what did you think of Ashley?" She asks me without prelude.

"She seems fine."

"I really like her. I think I'm going to hire her."

"You know you don't have to run it by me. Your office is not under my direct supervision."

"Oh, come on. We both know that's a technicality. Matt wouldn't agree to any hire for my office if you had an objection."

"Donna- you know I wouldn't interfere, right? I trust you completely."

"I know. I just mean, the First Lady's office might be on a separate org chart, but we all know that if the Chief of Staff decides someone should go, they'd be gone. I mean, can you imagine Amy ignoring a direct order from Leo?"

I have to stop to think about it for a minute. It _is_ Amy we are talking about after all. But ultimately I know Leo would have won that argument, had it ever occurred.

"But I'm not Leo, and you, _thank god_ , are not Amy."

"I know but you know what I'm saying."

"Hardly ever." I tease, leaning over and kissing her to make up for it.

" _Josh_." She swats at my arm. But she's smiling.

"Seriously. I know we talked about Karen, but that was just my opinion. I wasn't telling you what to do. It's your office. It's your decision."

"I know. But you were right about Karen. I talked to her before we posted the listing, just to see if she had any interest, generally, in a new job within the administration. She's happy being my assistant. She loves our office and her role in it. She's not looking for more."

I'm not sure what to say. I'm not surprised but it's not a big deal and contrary to popular belief I can be a gracious winner, especially when it comes to Donna.

"Anyway, I trust you too. You've had a lot more experience hiring people that I have, if your gut told you that Ashley wouldn't be a good fit I'd want to know."

"Well. She seems fine to me. I don't know why, but for some reason she reminds me a little of Ryan- so take that into consideration."

"I've always liked Ryan."

"But not as much as you like me." I insist, sliding my hand up the back of her shirt.

"No, not as much as I like you." She agrees, lifting her arms a bit so I can pull the shirt off over her head.

"I'm really glad you like me more." I tell her as I attach my lips to her collar bone for a moment.

After I've left a small mark, I let go. "Because I really, really, really, like you." I punctuate each word with more small kisses as I work my way around her neck. "You're, like, my favorite person. Ever."

"Josh?"

"Yeah?"

"No more talking."


	12. Fish Tacos and Red Valentino's

I make my way down the stairs to the smell of coffee and the happy laughter of Peter and Miranda. I slow down a bit and pause outside the kitchen. Helen is at the stove, making pancakes. The kids are at the table grinning and teasing each other. I hate to interrupt.

I’m just about to turn and go back upstairs when Miranda spots me. “Tia Donna! Good morning!”

“Yes it is!” I agree, walking into the room.

“You want pancakes?” Helen asks. “I’ve got blueberries or chocolate chips over here.”

“Um, sure. Blueberries.”

“Coming up. Coffee’s over there. Mugs are in the cupboard right above. Make yourself at home.”

Miranda giggles again and Peter smiles too. Clearly they are very glad to be back home.

“What time will my Dad be here?” Peter asks.

“And Lulu? Lulu’s still coming right?” Miranda chimes in.

“I just got off the phone with Tio Josh. They’ll be leaving the White House at noon their time. So they’ll be landing around 2:30 local time. We’ll have plenty of time to pick them up before we need to get to the school. And yes, Miranda, Lulu is still coming.”

“Tia Donna, why do you always say “local time?” Peter wants to know. 

“Once on President Bartlet’s campaign, we got stuck in Indiana.”

Peter and Miranda look confused, so I try to explain it to them. “Tio Josh and Molly’s Dad and I. We missed the motorcade and had to try to make it to the airport in another town. And we missed our flight because I didn’t realize that it was an hour later than I thought.”

They both sit there just looking at me, so I try to explain it better. All these years later it’s usually a funny story and gets me a laugh, but these two are looking at me with no clue.

“You probably don’t remember this from the last time, but while we are campaigning, we all have copies of the daily agenda that tells us where we are supposed to be at certain times. They are written in local time, because I guess they figure that you’d just look at a clock to know what time it is. But we were in the middle farm country, with no clocks around, and it turns out they didn’t observe daylight savings time.”

I’m not getting any laughs or even a smirk out of my audience. “I don’t understand.” Peter finally admits. “Didn’t your phones have the right time on them?”

“We didn’t have smart phones then.” I tell him to his utter shock and I suddenly feel very old. It hasn’t been that long since we had flip phones and batteries that died before the end of the day. But it’s been long enough that Peter really doesn’t know what I’m talking about. It’ll end up being ancient history by the time Lulu is his age. I wonder what new amazing technology we’ll have then.

“That’s weird.” He eventually announces and Miranda quickly nods in agreement. Helen’s heard the story before so she’s just sort of smirking while she flips the pancakes.

“Okay. nevermind about that. Did you guys have a good time last night while your Mom and I were at the fundraiser?”

“YES!” Miranda practically shouts. “Everyone came over to Tia Elena’s house and we had a big party with all my favorite food. And we played games all night. But then they had to go home and go to bed because of school today and then Kevin and Linda brought us home. But it was really good to sleep in my own room last night. And I can’t wait for you to see my school today.”

Miranda finally runs out of words and stops talking long enough to shove a forkful of pancakes in her mouth. 

I find it interesting how she refers to her room and school here in Houston. I know that Peter has had a hard time adjusting and that he doesn’t really consider the White House home, but I thought Miranda was fine with it. She was only five when Matt took office. She only attended a half year of kindergarten here, I’m really surprised that she feels such a connection to it. 

But it’s a great photo op for us. The school is opening a new high tech computer lab with money raised by the students over the last 3 years, and calling it The Matthew V. Santos 21st Century Education Center. It doesn’t involve federal funding at all, so there is nothing to tag us for. It can’t be called favoritism. It’s really just another great example of our President’s involvement in local communities. It was his encouragement for students to get more involved in their own education that motivated them, but they did it on their own. 

It’s too good of an opportunity to pass up, but seeing the kids this excited to be “home” makes me worry a little bit for them. What psychological trauma are we putting them through by taking them away from their community and raising them in the White House? Should I be worried about Lulu? She’s never known any other life, but what happens when she has to move away from the White House?

By the time Helen finishes cooking pancakes, the kids are done, and we are left alone at the table.

“How are you doing?” I inquire, putting away my own rambling thoughts.

“This is nice. Being home. Cooking in my own kitchen. But it makes me realize we can’t really ever go back.”

I just give her a look, wondering if she’s thinking along the same lines as I am. I’m hoping she’ll go on. The more I know about how she’s feeling, the better I can try to serve her. I mean, I want our office to have an agenda and do good in the world, but I haven’t forgotten that a big part of my role is to be an advisor to the First Lady and a friend to Helen Santos.

“The house isn’t even the same. A guard shack. Heightened security. Agents surrounding the perimeter. Being at Zoey’s wedding just reminded me that this lasts well beyond our years in Washington. And at least they had a large private farm to retire to. Matt and I are only going to be in our mid-fifties! Are we going to retire here, like this? And what about Mirand?, she’s not even going to be done with high school. Is she still going to want to come back here?”

“I don’t know.” I tell her honestly. Conversations like this used to worry me. In fact, this one reminds me a lot of one we had in her backyard here almost 4 years ago, when she told me she wasn’t sure she wanted him to win. Now I know. She supports Matt one hundred percent, but there is a part of her that would be okay with not winning. And this kind of conversation is just a bit of a release valve for her, a chance to mention her concerns and let them go.

“Yeah. I guess we never really do know the future. Really I think Miranda’s just excited to see her cousins, and she’s picked up on Peter’s insistence that this is home and DC isn’t. But she’s happy there. And we’ll cross the bridge of where she finishes her schooling once we get to it.” Helen smiles at me. “So, what’ve we got today?”

“Mostly just this. I didn’t schedule any morning events for you. I thought you might like to invite some friends over for coffee or just hang out with the kids. You’re free until 3.”

“That’s awesome, Donna. You’re the best. I’m going to call El!”

. . . . . . . . .

An hour later, I can hear Helen and Elena cackling about something. It makes me smile. I know I’d be welcome downstairs, but I really do have enough to keep me busy. 

I’m thrilled to have Ashley starting next week. I want to get her up to speed and working on her own projects as quickly as possible. I can’t wait for her to be the point person on the Christmas Parties and State Dinners, so I can focus on our legislative agenda completely. But in the meantime, I do have to look at what will be happening this summer and make sure we are all on track.

Just before noon, I hear a light tapping on the door. “Donna?” Helen asks softly.

“Come in!” 

“Okay, enough work.” She announces as she opens the door. “The kids want to go to Berryhill’s and the agents have said it’s okay. Come on. Let’s go.”

“What’s Berryhill’s?”

“Berryhill’s Hot Tamales. It’s the best ‘rita & fish taco stand in Houston! It’s an institution, been around since 1928.”

As I get my shoes on, I wonder whether or not to make a quick call to Annabeth for spin. I’d love to let this just be a little family moment, but we are in the middle of a national campaign here! On the other hand, the local press pretty much have us staked out anyway. There is virtually no chance of slipping out undetected. The minute the SUVs leave the house we’re going to be followed by the Press. The secret service will keep them back, but there will still be photos and video, which could get picked up by national news. And an unscripted wholesome family moment is worth its weight in gold. Yeah, this thing spins itself.

I follow Peter into the vehicle and settle in. He’s grinning. I really haven’t seen him this happy in a long time. “You’re going to love Berryhill’s, Tia Donna. It’s amazing.”

“So should I get tamales?”

“No, you should get their fish tacos! The original ones, not the grilled fish.”

Great. Just what my diet needs, battered fish for lunch. But I can’t resist Peter’s enthusiasm. 

“Okay. You’ve convinced me.” I assure him.

“What are you getting, Miranda?” 

“She always gets a cheese quesadilla.” Peter jumps in. He really must be gung ho about this, he’s usually the quiet one. It’s really nice to see and I can’t help but I hope the press do get good pictures of him smiling so much. Maybe they’ll back off about how depressed he always looks.

“Yep. A spicy cheese quesadilla!” Miranda agrees. “Chef Milos tries but his just aren’t the same.” 

I turn to Helen. “What about you?”

“I don’t suppose I can get a Margarita?” She teases a little plaintively.

“Not really a good idea.”

“I know. But someday when we aren’t running for anything, we are going to have a wild girls night out.”

“You’re on.”

. . . . .. . . .

Lunch was every bit as good as Peter promised. There was just the right amount of press to pretty much guarantee we will make at least the local newspapers, and I imagine it’ll get picked up by the fluff magazines, like People. Since everything appeared to go well, we’ll probably stay out of the tabloids, but you never know. Just being at a place famous for margaritas could set them off on wild tales.

And now I’ve done some yoga, had a shower, and I’m ready to see my family.

Matt jogging down the stairs of Air Force One to greet his family is another photo op that’s just too good to pass up. It probably would have made more sense logistically to have them meet us at the school, but this is perfect. And with this setting, the press can run these photos anytime. They aren’t tied to a specific event.

Josh makes his way down the stairs, once Matt is at the bottom hugging Helen and the kids. Josh pretends that he’s not that media savvy, but it’s just a ploy. He knows that the pictures of Matt and his family are better if they are just Matt and his family. Plus Josh would never jog down stairs while holding Lulu. He’d be worried about falling with her.

He makes his way down slowly, followed by Nicole and some of the other support staff. I give her a wave as she heads over towards the row of SUVS.

The Santoses have moved towards their limo, while Josh and Lulu are heading toward the one I’m standing by.

“Mama! Hi Mama, Hi!” Lulu shouts as they get closer. I feel my face break into a big grin. I’ve only been gone for 36 hours, but I missed them.

“Hi baby.” I take Lulu from Josh, squeezing her tight while planting some butterfly kisses on her face.

Josh waits patiently for a millisecond before wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me in for a quick kiss. That’s all he’ll give with the press watching but it’s enough that we hear a few cameras clicking.

We quickly get in the limo so that we can have a more private reunion.

“Man, I missed you!” Josh informs me as he buckles Lulu into the car seat.

“Missed you, Mama!” She agrees.

“Were you good for Daddy?” I ask her, and she nods enthusiastically. 

“Good.” I tell her, even though I already got a report from Josh last night. He said it was a pretty easy night. He ordered pizza and they played dollhouse while he watched the first round of March Madness. Then it was bath time and bedtime. Then he talked on the phone with me for over an hour. After that, he probably stayed up too late reading memos to try to get ahead for this weekend.

“Okay, so are we all set at the school?” Josh wants to know, switching back to work mode.

“Yes, Annabeth is there now, she’ll make sure everything is set for his speech. He’s not using a teleprompter, right?”

“No, not for this. Otto drafted something, but I don’t know how much of it Matt is using. This place is special to him. If he speaks from the heart it will be fine.”

“Yes, it’ll be fine. Hey, did you bring my red shoes for tonight?”

He grimaces, “Shoot. I forgot.” 

“ _Josh_!”

. . . . . . 

Later as we’re getting ready for another fundraiser, Josh is still apologizing. “I don’t know why you needed the red ones.” He insists as he watches me slide my black pumps on. “Those look fine.”

I can’t even contain the eye roll. “You think these black work pumps make my legs look as good as my red Valentino’s would with this cocktail dress?” I ask him in disbelief.

Josh recognizes a trap when he sees it and wisely keeps his mouth shut. I raise an eyebrow and wait. If I give him a little room he’s bound to say something that I can use to have a little fun harassing him.

After a moment he starts to fidget, so I put a little more pressure on, just because it’s so fun to watch him squirm. “Are you saying the red Valentino’s don’t make my legs look good?”

“They make your legs look incredible!” He bursts out. And I know I’ve got him.

“So you’re saying my legs don’t look incredible right now. And you accept full responsibility for that.”

“ _Donnnnna."_ He whines helplessly. I leave him hanging a couple moments before I give up the pretense of being upset and laugh at him.

“I’m just teasing you. It’s my fault for forgetting them in the first place.”

The look of relief on his face is comical. Then he grins, realizing that I got him good. “I promise, I’ll buy you some new shoes tomorrow. But for the record, your legs always look great.” He insists dropping into a crouch and running his hands down them and then up the inside of my thighs.

“Oh no, mister! No time for that. Get up here and let me tie your tie.”


	13. Abuela's Birthday

Lulu and I watch as Donna makes two trips from the bedroom to the door of the hotel suite, rolling our carry-ons and lining them up in a nice little row. The garment bags join them before she stops and looks at me with an eyebrow raised.

“Are you about ready?” She asks, indicating to the small mess that surrounds us.

“Not quite. I need to touch up my hair and make-up.” I tell her with a grin.

“Very funny, Josh.” She retorts dryly, which, of course, Lulu immediately copies.

“Very funny, Josh.”

“Hey shortstuff, that’s Daddy to you.” I remind her with a little poke to her belly button.

“Very funny, Daddy.” She answers without any of her usual baby-ness and I immediately flash forward to the teenage years. A chill runs down my spine and it causes me to shudder, but then Lulu flashes me a grin and pokes me back, and the foreboding is gone, replaced by the pure joy of my happy daughter.

“Come here, sweet pea. Let me see how adorable you are.” Donna beckons Lulu to her while I shove the books and finger puppets back into Lulu’s backpack. It’s really not that much stuff. Just enough to keep her occupied as we wait. Everything else is already in our luggage ready for advance to pick it up and take it to the plane.

“You are so stinkin’ cute!” Donna declares as she looks Lulu over. Of course, she’s right. Lulu is wearing a little dress that looks like a bandana with white leggings that'll be toast by mid-afternoon, and tiny red cowboy boots, courtesy of the First Family. I’m told this is appropriate attire for her first Texas BBQ, which I’m sure will be well documented in photos.

Since it’s not my first Texas BBQ, I’ve been permitted to wear jeans, loafers and a sweater to my great relief. I really don’t like cowboy boots. The rest of my outfit is unimportant. I’d actually just as soon put on a suit, so that I wouldn’t have to change on the plane to be ready to hit the campaign trail when we get to California. But I’ve been told that a suit is not appropriate attire for this event. When I pointed out that I’ve run a lot of campaigns wearing the same suit to different events, Donna assured me that she told me what to wear when she was my assistant, but that I just didn’t listen to her as much as I should have. Now, it seems, I have no choice. But the trade off is worth it, because part of the deal now is getting to watch Donna get dressed.

Speaking of which, Donna is wearing a denim skirt with an white eyelet shirt that is really turning me on. When she sits down and puts on her own cowboy boots, I’m done. This look is right out of my farm girl fantasies. I wonder if she’ll put her hair in pigtails later for me?

Donna looks up, sees the state I’m in, and gives me a sultry grin. She widens her eyes and bats her eyelashes at me. Then has the nerve to laugh at me when I groan helplessly. She’s evil, I tell you. It’s just mean for her to look that good when I can’t act on it.

“C’mere.” I growl at her pulling her out of the chair and kissing her senseless.

“Me too! Me too!” Lulu chants, causing Donna to laugh as the mood is quickly broken. Good thing too, because we really do have to be on our way.

. . . . . .

It feels a little weird pulling up in the town car without the motorcade, but this is what we get for staying in a hotel last night instead of at Matt and Helen’s. Their house just isn’t equipped for so many extra people. Donna gave up the guest room to Matt’s body man and we moved to the hotel after I arrived. It worked out much better to have Nicole put Lulu to bed in the suite while we were at the fundraiser and then just be able to go down the hall to her own room when we got back. There really wouldn’t have been space for her at the house.

As we climb out of the car, Donna gives Lulu and I a once over to make sure we are still presentable, then takes my hand and leads us up the sidewalk, nodding at the agents as we go. I don’t know why she’s nervous. Matt’s mom specifically requested our presence at this party.

Matt’s niece, Teresa greets us like long-lost family when we arrive. “Oh! Abuela is going to be so glad to see you! Thank you for coming. Everyone is out back.”

As we make our way through the house, it becomes very apparent that everyone is not out back, because there are people in every room. Matt has a very large family. People shout out greetings, and I try to remember everyone’s names. We haven’t seen most of them since the Memorial weekend we all spent at Camp David two years ago.

Matt’s sisters are all in the kitchen. Rosa, Carmen, Delores, Benita, and Elena. Donna gives each of them a hug as she greets them.

“Oh, dulce niñita!” Carmen coos over Lulu. “You’ve gotten so big.”

“Here, do you want a strawberry?” Benita offers her from the counter ladened with food. I can’t really tell if they are cleaning up from breakfast or preparing lunch.

“Tank you.” Lulu answers as she takes it, immediately taking a large bite.

“Isn’t she just the sweetest?” Rosa demands of her sisters, who immediately agree, while Donna beams over Lulu’s manners and I see her visibly relax. 

“We’d better go find your mother.” Donna reminds the ladies, gesturing a bit to the gold wrapped gift in her hand.

“Oh you didn’t have to bring anything!” Elena insists, “but you’d better call her Mama when you see her!”

We find Mama Santos on the back porch with Matt and Helen, Jorge, and some of her Sons-in-law. Helen’s face lights up when she sees us.

“Oh good! Mama was just asking about you.”

I see a flicker across Donna’s face, that I recognize as worry that we were late. I’ll have to remind her that Helen told us it was an open invitation. The family started to gather early and would pretty much be there all day but that we could come over whenever we wanted.

“Well, here we are! Happy Birthday!” Donna answers brightly handing her the gift she’s carrying.

“Gracias me ayudaráa a abrirlo?” Mama Santos asks Lulu who looks at me uncertainly.

“Will you help Abuelo open the present?” When she nods her agreement I set her down on Mrs. Santos lap.

Lulu eagers unwraps the gift with Mrs. Santos help. “Pretty!” Lulu tells her as she pulls out a silk scarf.

Lulu giggles as Mama Santos wraps the scarf around Lulu’s head, babushka style. After a few seconds Lulu takes it off and tries to put it on Matt’s Mom. It’s all very adorable.

Once Mama Santos has properly gushed over Lulu, Miranda, Cassidy, Madison and Sophia run up and whisk Lulu off to jump on the trampoline. “Be careful girls!” I call after them. “Remember! She’s little!”

“They’ll be fine, Josh.” Donna assures me. Still, I’ll be keeping an eye on them. I feel a lot better when Carlos runs over to join them with his Mom following behind.

“See.” Donna points out as she drags me toward a card table where Merisa and Steve are sitting, “there are lots of adults keeping an eye on the kids. Lulu is going to be fine.” 

There is a chair facing the trampoline, so I slide into it. “Yeah, this’ll be fine.”

“So. . . . let me see it!” Donna squeals at Merisa, who grins and presents her hand. “Oh that’s gorgeous! Congratulations!”

“Look, Josh!” Donna says excitedly, showing me Merisa’s hand. The ring is gorgeous. But what strikes me is the look on Steve’s face as he watches Merisa show it off. Don’t get me wrong, I’m really glad we eloped, but I suddenly realize that we missed out on this moment and that makes me feel bad. Maybe I can make it up to her.

The rest of the morning goes by pretty quickly. Matt’s family is loud and fun. Peter looks happy and relaxed playing some sort of yard game with David and Jackson. 

Matt and his brothers-in-law play a card game that I don’t really care to learn, while the women keep coming and going from the house until eventually Rosa announces that it’s time to eat.

Tomas prays over the food and then the line forms and the talking and laughing gets even louder as everyone fills their plates and finds a place to eat. I’m happy to have Lulu back in my lap as we share some brisket and cornbread. I relieved that Mama Santos made some without jalapenos. I think she might have done that just for me. The macaroni and cheese is really good too.

I’m pretty stuffed when we’re done, but then they pull out some blackberry cobbler and vanilla ice cream to go with the giant birthday cake for Mrs. Santos, and who can resist that? Especially since I know that they are doing dessert early because Matt and Helen have to leave to get to California tonight.

  
  


Mama Santos beams at all of us as we sing Happy Birthday to her. What a wonderful thing to have such a large gathering of family, her seventy-five years have been well spent.

I feel bad pulling them away when it’s time to go, especially when I see how disappointed Peter looks. But when Miranda runs out of the room sobbing it’s almost more than I can take.

“Can’t they just stay here?” Elena offers and I see Peter’s eyes light up as he looks hopefully at his father.

Matt and Helen look at each other and have a wordless conversation. It ends with a little shrug from Matt, then Helen looks at me. “Is it even possible?”

I surprise myself, answering her without even thinking it over. “Of course. I’ll make the arrangements with the secret service.”

“How will they get back to Washington?” Matt wants to know.

“I’ll take care of it.” Donna promises. “We’ll get them on a military transport. They’ll have their agents with them. It’ll be fine.”

  
  


“Is it really that easy?” Helen questions.

A look passes across Donna’s face that clearly indicates that this isn’t going to be easy for her, even as she quickly answers. “Sure, no problem. Let me just make some calls.”

“Me too.” 

“Here, I’ll take Lulu.” Matt offers holding his arms out to her. The irony isn’t lost on me that the President of the United States actually has the least to do at this moment. I follow Donna into the den. She already has her phone to her ear.

“Gary, this is Donna Moss Lyman. We’ve had a change in plans here. Peter and Miranda are going to stay in Houston a couple days. I need a transport schedule to get them back to Andrews on Sunday night. Can you send that to my blackberry ASAP?”

While she’s talking to Gary, I give Ron a call. “Hi Ron, it’s Josh. I need to talk to you about Peter and Miranda’s detail.”

“Is there a problem, Josh?” Ron asks in concern. I can imagine him sitting up straighter wherever he is.

“No. Not at all. They’ve just decided to spend a couple extra days here and I assume that might mean that you need to adjust the details, and I wanted to know how long that would take. Matt and Helen are due in California in a couple hours and I need to know whether I’m going to need to make adjustments to their schedule to give you time to make arrangements for the kids.”

“Thanks for calling Josh. You are still at Mrs. Santos’ residence, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, Peter and Miranda have agents assigned to them, but I need to get a few more over there to secure the perimeter once you leave with the President. Let me get with the special agent in charge and figure out exactly what we need and how long it will take to get it. He’ll give you a sit rep in 10 minutes.”

“Okay. Thanks Ron.”

“Sure Josh, you know how this works, you tell us what you want. We find a way to make it happen.”

By the time I’ve finished with my call, Donna’s off the phone too. She’s looking at her blackberry.

“How’s that return flight looking?”

“All good. We’ve got achoices- there are several regularly scheduled flights out of Ellington Field. We’ll just put the kids on one of those, or they’ll schedule a special flight. Not a big deal. I’m going to talk to Helen about it now and see what time she wants them back in DC. How’s Ron feeling about the amount of protection?”

“He wants to up the protection on the house after we leave, of course. But it sounds like he can get agents out here pretty quickly. I don’t think it will delay our trip by that much, hopefully Col. Caplan can make it up in the air or we may need to rearrange the first couple events.”

“What about Lulu?” 

“What do you mean?”

“Should we think about sending her and Nicole home now that Peter and Miranda aren’t going on the California trip?”

“No!” I tell her adamantly. “Absolutely not. I don’t want to send them commercial without us. I’m not even sure I’d be able to send an agent with them. Well, I could probably get someone to take personal time and then pay them under the table but that’s probably not even legal. No, I think they need to stay with us. Besides, we decided to bring her so that you’d have some time with her this week. That hasn’t changed.”

“Okay, Josh.” Donna soothes me. “I was just wondering if it changed anything for us. I’m going to check in with Helen and see if we can make a plan here.”

“Okay.” I agree as I follow Donna out of the room and back into the living room. 

“So? What’s the word?” Matt asks as he hands Lulu back to me.

“We should be getting an update from the agent in charge any minute. As soon as they tell us that the security is set for the kids, we’ll be ready to go when you are. Hopefully within the next fifteen minutes?”

“We’ll be ready when they are. Helen’s in the other room giving the kids last minute instructions, if you need her Donna.”

Donna nods and goes off to find Helen. Meanwhile, Lulu drops her head onto my shoulder. I’m sure she’s about ready for an afternoon nap. We’d counted on her sleeping a little on the plane. I sorta wish that Nicole was here to take her out to the car, but we gave her the morning off and she and the rest of the staff are meeting us on the tarmac.

Hopefully we’ll get this sorted out and get on our way before too long.


	14. Baby Beluga & the Deep Blue Sea

Shortly after the pilot announces that we are about to make our initial descent, Nicole brings Lulu back into the staff cabin. Josh reaches for her without even pausing the conversation.

“It’s going to be tight, but we should be there by 4pm.”

“We’re not still doing that.” Amy immediately counters.

“Yes. We are.” I jump in. CJ, Danny and Hope are meeting us at the Santa Monica Pier Aquarium, which is kicking off a fundraising drive to upgrade the facility, increase it’s educational opportunities, and clean up nearby beaches. Having the first family tour the facility is a huge boon, likely to draw a lot of press attention to the cause. It’s a great photo op for us, and as a total bonus, we’ll get to spend a little time with our friends. 

“Peter and Miranda aren’t here for the photo op.” Amy insists. “I don’t want any questions about that. We aren’t going. I’ve made arrangements for them to drop in to the local campaign office instead.” 

“You didn’t clear that with me!” I burst out. 

Amy gives me a cool look but doesn’t say anything.

I raise an eyebrow back at her. “Did you check with Mrs. Santos?” I know she didn’t. Amy and Helen have never really warmed up to each other. I wouldn’t say they are enemies, but they definitely aren’t friends.

“No, Donna, I didn’t. I also didn’t think this would become a federal case. It’s a little Aquarium. It’s beneath the President’s attention. The only upside for us was the photo op with the children. Without them there isn’t much reason for us to do it.”

“Sure, this would be better with the kids. But there will still be press. And we don’t want to diss the environmental lobby by not showing at all. Questions about why we cancelled would be much worse than questions about why the children aren’t present.” I rattle off my reasoning, then close with an offer. “We can present both options, but I’m going to tell Mrs. Santos that I recommend keeping the commitment.”

“Well, you know she’s going to listen to you.” Amy grouses a little.

“Well, I hope so. It is my job after all.”

“I’m just doing my job too, Donna.” Amy informs me with a bit of attitude. “We need to work together.”

“Of course, Amy. I’m happy to work together, that’s why I consulted you when the opportunity arose, and that’s why I expect you to consult me before you think about canceling it.”

Amy stands up. “I’m going to talk to the President. I’ll suggest that Mrs. Santos keep the Aquarium event, but that we find something else for him. We really don’t need the whole family there without the kids.”

“Sounds like an excellent idea.” I tell her trying to keep the smirk off my face.

As soon as the door clicks behind her, Josh lets out a low whistle. “That was so hot.”

“Pig.” I tell him softly, so Lulu doesn’t over hear me. I know he’s kidding, but I’m not going to let the comment slide without at least a little rebuke.

“Seriously. I always knew she wouldn’t stand a chance if you ever took the gloves off.”

I tilt my head to study Josh for a minute. Did he really think that or is he still playing? The side of his mouth lifts up in a smirk.

“I’m serious Donna. Not a chance.”

Well. I’m not sure that was true back then. But it’s nice to hear now. The speaker crackles--

“Attention, this is Lt. Col. Gantry. Col. Caplan informs me that we’ll be landing soon. Please take your seats.”

Josh stands up and puts Lulu in her seat. “Alright sweet pea. Time to get you buckled in.” He tells her, smoothing her curls as he carefully clips the belt in place.

Then he sits back down and picks up a board book and starts to sing as he reads to her. “Baby Beluga in the deep blue sea. Swim so wild and you swim free…”

. . . . 

I’m so excited to see CJ, Danny and Hope out front as the motorcade pulls up. There are plenty of press around too. Yes, it would have been nice to have Peter and Miranda here, but it won’t be that big of a deal, we’ll still get lots of local press coverage. And I’m sure we can parlay this into some coverage in some national environmental periodicals as well.

The cameras click as Helen gets out of the car with Annabeth right beside her. They are greeted by the Aquarium’s director and I see her gesturing to the beach, I’m sure giving Helen some general information about the location. But I’m holding back, itching to hug CJ, who is standing near them with a polite smile on her face.

She told me this is one of the “lesser” charities that the Hollis Foundation supports. Really, just a pet project of CJ’s, because the director’s daughter attends the same Gymboree class as Hope. But it serves our purpose. People really seem to love it when Helen gets involved in these little community projects. It always leads to good coverage.

As the group moves inside, Danny moves around to the side to join us as we trail in behind.

“Hi man! It’s good to see you!” Josh greets him with a half hug, which also sort of shoves the girls together. Hope leans way back as Lulu tries to kiss her.

“Aww, Hi Lulu.” Danny offers, “do you remember me?”

Lulu shakes her head yes, although I highly doubt it’s true. “Baby Hope.” She says poking a finger toward the younger girl.

“Yes. That’s right. This is Hope.” Danny agrees.

“Your Christmas card is still on the refrigerator.” I inform him. “We’ve been talking about this trip for a week.”

“Well I’m glad.” Danny tells me. “We’ve missed you guys.”

“You could come back to DC.” Josh suggests half heartedly, but still earning a glare from Danny.

“Don’t start Josh.” He warns, but once Josh grins and shrugs Danny relaxes. I guess this is still a sensitive topic in their house.

Once we are all inside Helen calls out to us. “Josh, Danny, bring the girls up to the front.”

After we take our places next to her, the tour continues. The director shows us several tanks with an assortment of fish. The darker tank contains jellyfish that seem to glow.

“Ooooh, pretty!” Lulu reacts, touching the glass.

We get to see a lab area where they have summer camp and storytime. The director explains that they have over 10,000 visitors a year from all around the world.

“And I’m sure you’ve all heard about this little guy.” She announces, stopping next to a tank with an octopus in it.

Several people chuckle, but Josh shakes his head. “This  two-spotted octopus managed to manipulate the pipe connection that takes care of draining the water tank last year causing two hundred gallons of water from the valve to flood the visitor area!” She tells him with a smile on her face. “We are so grateful to the Hollis Foundation for stepping in and helping replace our computers and educational material.”

“We were happy to do it.” CJ insists. “My daughter loves coming here to look at the fish. And Heal the Bay is doing really great things in this community.”

Next she leads us over to the shark tank. “Big fish!” Lulu announces.

“Shark.” Hope informs her. It’s the first thing I’ve heard Hope say since we got here. 

“Shark.” Lulu repeats, impressed. Then she gives Hope a big grin, and Hope grins back. Suddenly they are fast friends.

Finally we make our way to the touch tanks. The girls giggle as they are able to hold sea stars and cucumbers and hermit crabs.

After the tour is over, the group makes it way outside and on to the beach. Helen and Annabeth walk with the director and the press as she talks about their environmental initiatives, but CJ, Danny, Josh and I hang back, letting the girls toddle along at their own pace.

“Did you put sunscreen on?” CJ asks, digging into her the large Coach tote over her arm. “Here.”

I take a look at the package.  “ Lancome high-protection sun stick for face and lips?” 

“It’s the best.” CJ insists.

“She has sensitive alabaster skin.” Josh intones to Danny who just grins.

“Indeed.”

“I do!”

“I know!” Josh agrees, giving me a look that tells me without words how much he loves my skin.

“Oh my god, you two.” CJ groans. “Don’t you ever stop?”

“Why should we?” Josh answers her with another wicked grin.

Helen and her entourage appear to have finished the outside portion of their discussion and are on the way back towards us when Lulu looks up and spots her.

Lulu takes off running and since the beach has been cleared, there’s really no reason to stop her. When she gets to Helen, the First Lady scoops her up laughing, while a couple of video cameras roll.

“Nice footage.” CJ says under her breath while Danny glowers a bit.

“We don’t make a habit of allowing her to be on camera.” I insist. “I doubt this will be anything more than B footage, and the White House Press Corps will give me a heads up before they’ll use it.”

“Yeah, but there are some local guys in there too.” Danny insists. “And these days not everyone is as ethical as we used to be.”

Josh’s brow furrows at Danny’s statement and I want to smack Danny for worrying him. Can’t we just have a happy moment without it being ruined? Josh already worries so much about Lulu, we really don’t need to add to it.

“Donna?”

“It’ll be fine babe. I’ll speak to the Press before we go and see who’s got it. I’ll ask them not to use her name or show her face, okay?”

“Okay.”

On the way back to the motorcade the girls spot the carousel. “Horsey, Mama! I ride the horsey? Please, Daddy?”

Josh looks to me and I really appreciate the acknowledgement that since this is a FLOTUS event, I should be the one to decide.

But Helen observes our silent conversation and weighs in. “You guys should stay!” She insists. “We’re just going back to the hotel to eat and get ready for tonight. Annabeth can come with me. I’ll be fine. We’ll catch up again before the fundraiser.”

I give Josh a little nod and he turns to the agents nearby. “Scott!” He barks, pulling his lead agent aside, “Can our detail easily split off from the First Lady’s?”

“Yes sir.” Scott assures him. “You have your own town car and your agents have a separate trail car.”

“Okay.” Josh tells Lulu. “Let’s go ride the horsey.”

Inside the pavilion, CJ and I find a bench while Josh and Danny help the girls mount their steeds, then hold on as the ride begins to move. Josh’s agents stand on either side of the ponies, making it hard for me to get a good photo.

“I don’t miss that.” CJ tells me. And I know immediately what she means. “And I can’t even imagine it with a child. Doesn’t it drive you crazy?”

“No, we’re pretty used to it by now. They give us as wide a berth as possible.”

“All because of Kazakhstan. I’m sorry about that.” CJ offers.

“It’s not your fault.” I reassure her. “And it isn’t all because of Kazakhstan. Josh and I still get a few threats a year. Even if we weren’t in a military action I think Josh would want the protection, and so would the President. He still authorizes a detail for Zoey. You’d think with the wedding last year people would have gotten over it, but the threats against them have increased. I can’t imagine what it’s going to be like when they have kids.”

“Yeah,  the white supremacists really come out of the wood work to harass interracial families.”

“Oh! I’m so sorry CJ, I didn’t mean . . .”

“I know you didn’t Donna. And I’m guessing some of those threatening letters you get have to do with the fact that you and Josh are of different faiths.”

“Yes.”

“People are stupid sometimes.”

“Yes, indeed.”

When the girls are done with their ride, we stand around awkwardly for a minute. “Well, we really should go.”

“Yeah.” CJ agrees but neither of us make any movement towards the door.

“Oh my god, not one of those midwest goodbyes that takes 90 minutes!” Josh groans. “We don’t have that kind of time. You’re going to see each other tonight at the party anyway.”

“He’s right.” CJ announces giving me a quick hug. “We’ll see you tonight. We’ll help each other avoid the guys offering development deals.”

. . . . . .

Back at the hotel, Josh spots Amy in the lobby of the hotel. “I’ll meet you upstairs in a bit. I want to talk to Amy about tonight.”

“Alright, but I’m taking a shower in 30 minutes, without or without you.”

“I’ll be up in 25.”

At 28 minutes, I stand up and head into the bathroom. I’ve just removed my jewelry and I’m about to take off my blouse when I hear the door open. I smile to myself. I’m not surprised that he made it back in time to join me.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” He shouts causing me to giggle and hope that the walls aren’t too thin. I left Lulu next door with Nicole just in case Josh’s meeting ran long.

So I pause, shirt half unbuttoned, and wait for him. He practically skids into the room, hands already working his at his belt. He comes to a halt when he sees me. A boyish grin blossoms on his face. 

“I’m not too late.” He breathes out in relief.

“Just in time.”

“This is my favorite part.”

“I know.”

I keep eye contact with him as I slowly undress, then I turn away and step into the steamy shower. I can hear him whipping off his clothes as fast as possible, and I’ve barely had time to get my hair wet when he joins me.

His hands are immediately on my hips as he pulls me close, crashing his lips to mine. Something tells me this isn’t going to be fast.


	15. Jimmy Choo! I love you!

My brain is in a pleasant haze as I sit on the closed toilet and watch Donna slather some moisturizer on her face. SPF something, to protect her alabaster skin. I'm mildly tempted to tug the corner of her towel, to see if I can get it to come off, so I can see all of her skin at once, but if I'm being honest with myself, I'm not fully recovered from our shower activities. Having a hot young wife can really take it out of you. Not that I'm complaining. But in the last few years I've started seeing the benefits of napping. Especially if you can convince the hot young wife to nap with you so that she's right there when you're recovered and ready for another round.

But we don't have time for either a nap or round two. We've got dinner and a party to get ready for.

When she is done with her face, Donna leans down and gives me a quick peck on the lips as she leaves the bathroom. I get up to follow. I want to see her open the present.

"What's this?" She asks as she discovers the sleek black gift bag sitting on the bed, hot pink tissue paper sticking out of it. I always love it when the store wraps it for you.

"It appears to be a gift." I inform her in a haughty voice. I may not be quite ready for more physical activities but I'm always up to bantering. Donna gives me a little side-eye for the tone, but she looks pretty excited about the gift.

"It must be from my lover. He's always spoiling me."

"As well he should."

"But I am wondering how he pulled this off, since I've been with him pretty much the whole day. Except of course when I was in the shower getting busy with you."

"He must be a man of many talents." I offer, smirking at her as I recall putting those talents to good use. I feel myself stir a bit at the memory, causing me to glance at my watch, just to verify that we really don't have time for any more fun before we need to refocus on our jobs.

She grins at me, still fiddling with the tissue paper, savoring the anticipation of opening the bag. I've learned this isn't hesitation, it's just part of her charm.

"Seriously, Josh. You were gone a half an hour. When did you get this?"

"I was gone 28 minutes." I correct her. "There's a boutique next door. I spotted it when we arrived so I made Amy come with me so we could have our meeting while I kept my promise to you."

She wrinkles her nose again. "What promise?"

"Maybe if you, ya know, open the bag, it'll come back to you." I tell her with feigned exasperation.

Finally, she pulls out the paper. "Oh! Shoes!" She exclaims. "You didn't really have to get me new shoes. It's my fault I forgot to pack them."

As she's reassuring me, she pulls them out of the bag and spots the name on the box for the first time. "Jimmy Choo! I love you!" She screeches in glee.

I can't help the grin that breaks out across my face. When Donna first started working for me she bought cheap, sensible, and often ugly, shoes. But over the years my Mother and I have converted her.

Donna flips off the lid and audibly gasps. Clearly I did good. I fell in love with them the minute I saw them, but I did have a moment of doubt, unsure if they were over the top. But Amy assured me that they weren't, mumbling something about wishing that Landon was just a little bit more aware of the finer things in life.

"Oh my god, Josh. Oh my god." Donna chants, the delight evident on her face as she slips the shoes on and holds her feet out to admire them.

They are perfect. The beige sandal would never have caught my attention but the crystal floral strap is stunning on her slim foot. I couldn't remember what dress she packed for tonight but with the all the different color flowers, these really should work with anything.

"I did okay?" I inquire a little sheepishly. I'm pretty sure I did, but a part of me needs the confirmation.

"Yes! These are gorgeous!" She jumps off the bed and pulls me to her and kisses me soundly. When she's done I'm grinning wildly and profusely wishing we had more time.

"The strap is removable." I inform her. "So if you want to wear the shoes without it, like to work or something, you can." I repeat what the sales associate told me. "They are a really good value for the money." At that, Donna's head snaps up and I immediately realize my error.

"How much did these cost, Josh?"

We both dive for the bag at the same time to check for the receipt. When she comes up with it first, I feel a moment of panic, followed by relief as she finds it empty and I remember that I put it in my wallet. I'm safe.

"Joshua?" She draws out my name in a way that she can only have learned from my Mother, and I'm tempted to confess, but I'm not stupid.

"I'll tell you tomorrow."

"I'm not wearing these until you tell me how much they cost."

"Donna . . ." I whine. "You love the shoes. Don't worry about the price."

"They're Jimmy Choo, Josh! You bought them at a boutique in Beverly Hills! And now you're obfuscating? I think I'd better worry about the price."

I steer her over to the full length mirror on the wall. I'm not above begging. "Please, baby. Just let me do nice things for you. I hardly ever do. Look how good they look on you."

She looks at herself in the mirror and I see her weakening a bit, so I press a little harder. "CJ is going to be so jealous. And I promise, we'll still have enough money to send Lulu to college."

Donna's face breaks into a bit of smirk when I mention CJ, and I know I've got her.

"Okay." She caves, "but I think you'd better not let me find the receipt." She turns, wraps her arms around my waist and gazes into my eyes. "And for the record, you do nice things for me all the time."

As much as I'd like to just stand here and hold her like this, we've got to get dressed. I put a fresh shirt and suit on, but Donna slips out of her new shoes and into jeans and top.

When we join Matt and Helen in the war room, I see that our attire pretty much matches everyone else's. The guys are all in the suits they'll wear tonight, but the girls seem to be waiting until the last minute to put on cocktail gowns. I guess it makes sense. We immediately head over to a table ladened with food. It's crazy to be making sandwiches from a deli tray when there will be incredible food at the party. But it's part of the job. We really won't have time to eat later. Plus it already feels way past dinner time. 

I'm happy to see that Lulu is almost finished with her dinner. Nicole will have to handle the bedtime routine tonight, and it really should happen soon. Lulu's little body has no idea how to deal with the change in time zones.

I put together a corned beef on rye complete with coleslaw and Russian dressing, then grab some chips and a pickle and a bottle of water, before making my way to my daughter.

"Hi sweet pea."

"Hi Daddy, Hi!"

"Are you almost done eating?"

Lulu nods her head before taking another bite of turkey.

"Mommy and I are helping Uncle Matt and Aunt Helen tonight, so Nikki's going to give you your bath and read your stories before bedtime."

"Ahkay." She agrees easily, giving me a bit of a dimpled smile. I bet she's really tired. Nicole smiles softly at Lulu, and I'm reminded how lucky we are to have her in our lives.

"Don't worry, Lulu and I will be fine."

"I know. Thanks Nicole. I need to go talk to Bram about press coverage. Bring her over for a good night kiss before you take her back to the suite, okay?"

"Sure thing."

I press a kiss on the top of Lulu's head before I join Bram and Amy and Edie's huddle.

"Obviously, I'm not worried about tonight," Amy insists, "but I want to make sure we aren't wasting our time tomorrow. That town hall at the church in South Central is the real deal?"

Edie rolls her eyes. "Yes. He's the President. You think I didn't fully vet all the invitations we accepted?"

Edie's got a point. This isn't the primaries in the first campaign where we'd pretty much accept any offer that put us in front of three people. We get bunches of invitations every day. We turn down far more than we accept.

"You know what I meant. I just want to make sure we're maximizing our possibilities."

"Okay," I break in before this goes too far, I'm all for them working out their relationship early in this process, but we've got a limited amount of time right now. "Give me tomorrow's full schedule."

"9 am, St. Dominic's, 1pm, the Town Hall at First Congregational, then we'll fly up to Sacramento, meeting with Tillson and the Rally for Woodsey in the California 6th at 7. Then we're back on AirForce One, wheels down in DC 5am local time." Bram recites with a small grin at the end.

"Brutal." Edie announces, "but you love it."

Bram gives a quick nod. "Everest is for sillies." He repeats my old catch phrase and I can't help but give him a grin. He's caught the bug. Maybe I've found my successor, because this just doesn't have the same appeal to me as it once did.

Nicole takes the moment to interrupt, bringing Lulu to me for her goodnight kisses. I take her into my arms and pepper her face with quick smooches while she giggles softly.

"Good night pumpkin. Sweet dreams."

"Good night Daddy."

Donna sees what's happening and takes a break from her conversation with Helen and Annabeth to join us.

"Good night babydoll."

"Good night, Mama."

When Nicole and Lulu are gone, Donna joins our group. "So, we're all set. We've added Mrs. Santos to the event in Denver for tomorrow evening. We'll part ways when you head to Sacramento. Then we have our full schedule in Minnesota on Monday, we'll back in DC for events on Tuesday."

"Excellent." Amy announces, looking very pleased with Donna's plan. I'm glad things are working out there.

"Okay," Donna says, standing up. "I don't know about the rest of you girls, but I've got a dress to squeeze into. And wait until you see my shoes!"

I don't have a dress to squeeze into, but I'm satisfied with the state of affairs, so I stand up to join Donna in our room. I'm not going to miss the opportunity to see her undress.

. . . . . .

The party is in full swing when we arrive fashionably late. Well we're not really late, because you're never late when you are traveling with the President. Sometimes we are off schedule but that's not the same. And we aren't even actually off schedule. We've arrived right as planned.

"Look at this house, look at this house." Otto keeps mumbling under his breath in awe.

Even though I've been here several times, I find myself looking around, taking notice of the string quartet playing up on a balcony overlooking the foyer, which is filled with large bouquets of fresh flowers. We move through the room, shaking hands and greeting people, until we exit onto the large patio next to the pool. The whole place really does look incredible with white string lights in the trees and bushes, and candles floating in the pool, creating a gentle glow and a comfortable ambiance.

I spot CJ and Joey sitting at a table and give them a wave. I'd love to join them, but this is a work night. I have a list of people in my head. Donors that need a little positive reinforcement. Party players that need marching orders. And of course the Press watching from the roped off area. We'll have to give them a little bit of substance to go with the glitz and glamour they're photographing.

After an hour of circulating through the mansion, I spot Donna. She's tucked into a corner having an intense conversation with the California Democratic Party Chair. I watch her for a few minutes to see if she needs any back-up, but she's holding her own. Eventually, I see Craig nod and smile at her, persuaded by her argument.

My heart swells. What an amazing woman. We've had an incredible journey to get to this point. I can still remember the first time we attended this event. She was so young. Watching her fangirl over David Hasselhoff and Matthew Perry was cute, but it's nothing compared to the turn on it is watching her doing her thing as the powerful Chief of Staff to the most popular First Lady in modern history. And I know I'm not the same overzealous political operative that can't figure out his own feelings about his assistant I used to be. I still don't claim to be an expert on women, but I'd like to think I'm on my way to being an expert on Donnatella Moss Lyman. If I can manage that, it'll be the greatest thing I've ever done.

I move on before Donna sees me. I'm proud of the fact that she doesn't need me, and there are plenty of other people that probably do. I'll catch up with her when the evening is over.

One of the guys trying to rope me into a development deal is standing nearby in the foyer, so I make my way down a quiet hall trying to find another way out to the patio. As I pass by a dark room, I hear a low voice call out my name.

"Josh."

I stop at the partially open door, wondering if I should go in.

"Please. Do come in." The voice says again, so obviously someone is watching from the shadows.

Inside the room I find Ted Marcus sitting on a leather couch, watching the party happening outside his window.

"Ted. Good to see you. Nice party."

"Are you having a good time?"

"Ah. Sure. I mean, it's kinda a work night for me."

"Me too."

I'm not really sure what he means, so I don't say anything. But when he gestures to the chair across from him, I sit down. A few moments tick by in silence while I wait to see what Ted wants. It's a trick that Donna taught me. Sometimes when you are quiet other people start to talk and you can get more information than when you press them.

Sure enough, Ted eventually speaks.

"I wanted to ask you something."

"Okay."

"Are we ever going to get equality?" He sounds sad and resigned, not at all like the brash man who slapped me around so many years ago. I guess I can understand why. He's seen moments of hope, only to have them dashed. The pace of progress oftentimes seems glacial. But I still believe that we can change the world. If I didn't, I wouldn't do this anymore.

"Yes, Ted. You will."

"Really?"

"Yes. I know at times it doesn't seem like it, but we really are working on it. We think the Court is going to overrule Prop. 8, and President Santos is absolutely committed to repealing "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" in his second term. Sam has been working on it and he's told me it's a done deal as long as we win re-election and keep the house."

Ted doesn't look moved by my fervent promises. I suppose he's heard them before. He and Jed got along well enough, but the Bartlet Administration didn't really make any progress for Gay Rights on a Federal level. Pretty much all the progress in the last decade has occurred at the state level. All we've done is hold of the opponents.

"Well." He answers with a sigh, "I suppose that's why we're all here, isn't it."

"Yes it is. And I should probably get back out there and do my thing."

"Don't let me stop you."

"Ahkay." I stand with a bit of uncertainty. Ted's an odd guy. I've never been very good at reading him. But I feel like he wants a little more from me. "I give you my word, Ted. We'll do everything we can. Love is love." Just then Donna walks by the window, and Ted gives me a slight smile.

"Well, now that you know what love is, maybe we've got a chance."

He waves me off and I hurry out of the room to see if I can catch up with Donna. As I step out onto the patio, I find Matt with his arm around a woman, smiling for the camera. Several more people are lined up, obviously waiting their turn. I stare at him for a minute with a raised eyebrow, waiting to see if he signals me to save him, but he keeps grinning and shaking hands, so I move on. He's got his bodyman nearby, and the kid is really good at extracting him when needed.

A little further on, I find my wife, flanked by CJ and Joey, holding her foot out with a giant grin on her face. Oh yeah, those shoes were worth every penny.


	16. A Good Bet

I’m completely fried as I open the door to the town house and shuffle in with my bags. I drop them in the entryway and stagger over to the couch, my eyes closing involuntary as I fall gracelessly into a heap on it.

Something brushes across my forehead, causing me to startle back awake. I feel completely disoriented as my eyes fly open. I have no idea how long I’ve been out. But I’m staring into Josh’s warm brown eyes, so instantly I feel myself relax.

“Hi Honey.” I mumble.

He gives me one of his goofy grins. “Why didn’t you come to bed?” He asks as he leans down and kisses me gently on my nose.

“What time is it? How long have I been asleep?” I’m so confused.

Josh laughs lightly at me. “It’s a little after midnight. You just got home. I’ve waited up for you. Why’d you lay down on the couch?”

“Huh?”

Josh laughs again. “Come on, baby. You’re completely out of it.” He takes my hand and helps me up, supporting me with an arm around my waist. I’m leaning pretty heavily on him as we make our way down the hallway to our bedroom. Just putting one foot in front of the other is taking a lot of effort. I probably just should have stayed on the couch.

Once we’re in our bedroom, he steers me over to the bed and pushes me gently down.

He grins at me as I sit there stupidly for a few moments. I swear I’ve never been this tired. It’s only midnight, why am I this tired?

After what feels like a long time, Josh kneels down in front of me and takes my socks and shoes off. Followed by my dress pants. Next he unbuttons my blouse. As he slips it off my shoulders, and moves on to my bra, I find myself waking up a bit. We’ve been apart for almost two days, and I’ve really missed him.

But as I lean forward to reach for Josh’s waistband, I let out a huge yawn, causing him to laugh at me again. Not exactly the reaction I was looking for, but I’m really too tired to care.

“Donna- you’re practically asleep with your eyes open. Let’s just get your pajamas on and get in bed.” 

  
  


“But I haven’t touched you in two days.” I whine a bit at him in a total reversal of our normal roles.

“Come on,” he chuckles as he slips a soft t-shirt over my head. When he pulls the covers back, I slide in without any further complaint. I’ll just rest for a bit and then we’ll see about a proper welcome home.

. . . . . . . . 

Waking up in my own bed feels heavenly. It would be nicer if my husband were next to me, but on a Tuesday it’s more than I can really hope for. Especially Super Tuesday.

And when I see that it’s 7:45 I totally understand why he’s not here, but I have absolutely no idea why he let me sleep so long. 

After I go to the bathroom and brush my teeth, I pad down the hallway towards Lulu’s room where I can hear the two of them talking quietly. I stop in the doorway just to watch them for a minute.

Lulu is dressed in navy blue shirt with white leggings with red and blue stars. It’s very patriotic. And even though he is wearing a suit, Josh is stretched out on the floor next to her, in front of her dollhouse. All the doll people are sitting at the table eating breakfast.

Correction. Only the Daddy doll and the baby doll are at the table. The Mommy Doll is sitting in a chair that has been placed on the other side of the room. Ugh. I wonder if my two year old is trying to tell me something?

At the sound of my distress, Lulu suddenly turns and looks at me. Her face lights up.

“Mama! Mama!!” She stands up and runs to me wrapping her little arms around my legs. After a few moments she lets go. “UP!” She demands. So I pick her up and squeeze her tightly.

“Hi pumpkin.”

“Hi, Mama! Hi!” Lulu responds excitedly. Well, I guess she’s not mad at me after all. Really I was only away from her for a couple days. She spent three of the five days on the road with us. But I’m glad for the warm welcome.

“I love you so much.” I reassure her with another squeeze.

“Love you too.” She tells me as she starts to squirm. “Down now.”

“Please let me down.” I remind her even as I’m lowering her to her feet.

“Peas, down now, Mama.” Lulu repeats dutifully. “Come play.”

“Just for a couple minutes.” I tell her, as I look over at Josh-- “we’re already running late?”

“I’m not. Sam’s handling the morning staff meeting. And last night you mumbled something about Helen not wanting to see anyone until noon before you passed out.”

“I don’t know why I was so exhausted last night. I mean, midnight’s not that late.”

“No but you spent a lot of time on planes, and switching time zones. I knew that last rally in Minnesota wouldn’t wrap up until after 9pm and by the time you got back to DC. . . Well, you remember what all that travel does, it makes us loopy.”

“But not this early in the season!”

“Well, you know, we’re getting . . .”

“Do NOT say older.” I cut him off, warning him with a mock glare that has him biting off the rest of his sentence with the good sense to look sheepish.

He sits there a minute looking at me appraisingly while I move the Mommy doll into the living room of the doll house. I see the moment that the light bulb goes off over his head and my heart breaks just a little bit as I have to dash his hopes.

“No.” I shake my head gently. “It’s not that either. I started Sunday.”

“Oh.” He says, taking my hand.

There’s so much disappointment in that one word, I want to cry. I know it’s crazy to even consider getting pregnant while we are campaigning, but we _are_ getting older. And it’s not like there’s ever going to be a perfect time. We live crazy, hectic lives. So we are trying. Without success, it seems.

“Daddy!” Lulu walks the baby doll from the living room to the kitchen. “Finish the dishes and come watch TV with us!” The doll demands on her behalf. Since it’s just play I let her get away with it.

“Yes, ma’am.” Josh has his doll respond, his eyes twinkling. She sure does have him wrapped around her little finger. I’d love to give him another child to pour all his love into.

But I take a deep breath and smile at Josh. Our life is amazing as it is. We have a beautiful daughter. We have fulfilling jobs. We have a country to run. We’re going to be fine. Even if it ends up just being the three of us.

. . . . .

At one o’clock Karen buzzes me to remind me that Amy is here to debrief me about the trip. I’m immensely grateful to Josh for ensuring that I’m well rested and well caffeinated for this encounter. Ninety percent of the time Amy and I work together just fine. But I like to be one hundred percent prepared.

She waltzes into my office looking on top of the world. I’ve always admired her confidence and her ability to really go after what she wants. And she seems to have it. Her position as de facto campaign manager to re-elect a sitting President is no small thing. Added to the work she’s done in the West Wing for the last three years, she’s really solidified her position in the party. She’ll be able to write her own ticket if she decides to leave us when this is over. And I wouldn’t be surprised if she does. Legislative Affairs involves a little too much compromise for her taste.

“So Donna, how was the trip?” Amy jumps right to the point as I direct her to a chair in front of my desk. 

“I guess we’ll find out for sure tonight when we see what voter turnout looks like, but I think it went really well. The Denver event was really enlightening. There’s a fairly vocal group ready to make a big push for legalization. We’d better keep our eyes on it.”

“Interesting. How are the candidates reacting to it?”

“Cautiously. They don’t want to alienate any of the law and order crowd either, but there’s definitely a movement brewing.”

“Good to know. How was the turnout for the first lady?”

“Really good. Full capacity. There was a little anti-war counter protest. Probably a little bit of overlap with the Free Mary Jane crowd. But nothing worth writing home about.”

“Okay great, how was Minnesota.”

“It was a whirlwind. Quick stops in the 5th and 7th- those are holding strong, no worries. We had that joint event for all the incumbents. Made sure they got some good pictures for their newsletters. We added that rally up in Duluth. Milton is the challenger. If she makes a strong showing in the primary and keeps raising the cash, she’s actually got a shot at taking the seat.”

“I love her.”

“Me too. So Josh said the rest of your California trip was successful?”

“Yes. Good photo ops with Governor Tilman while we stumped for some state court races up in Sacramento. Nothing too exciting but it’ll make a local Press and we don’t want to completely cede the primaries to the Republicans. There are a lot of down ticket candidates that need some coattails to ride.”

“That’s the truth. So are you sticking around for tonight’s results?”

“Of course! I’ll have plenty of money to collect. Some of it from your husband.”

“We’ll just see about that.” I retort, getting a quick grin in response. I know Amy thinks she’s the political savant, but I have a few cards up my sleeve.

. . . . . 

At 5:55 I power down my computer. Having a deputy means I really don’t have as much to do, which is nice since I’m only working half a day. Now it’s time for some fun.

I find my staff gathered in our lobby area, probably waiting on me. “All right. Work time is over. Who’s coming up to the residence?” 

“All of us.” Annabeth declares as she looks around the group. The only one missing is Angie. But it’s Tuesday, I think it’s a tele-work day for her.

“You all know you don’t have to come, right?” I offer, mostly for Ashley’s benefit. She’s new, and this is a pretty great perk of working here, so I can’t imagine why she wouldn’t want to, but this is her free time.

“Are you kidding?” Ashley insists, “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“I get it.” I tell her, as I move us toward the door. “I remember the first time I was invited to visit the residence. President Bartlet used to make this awful chili, and have us over while his wife was out of town.” The group laughs. “It was better when Zoey was in town. She knew how to fix it up.”

When we get to the second floor, I let Annabeth lead the group into the East Room, while I head upstairs to fetch Lulu. Josh’s staff will be joining us too and I’m sure Nicole will want to spend time with Ryan. I have a suspicion that they are spending most of their evenings together once they leave here. She hasn’t officially changed her address yet, but it really sounds like things are moving in that direction.

“Hey baby doll.” I call out to them as I enter the room.

“Hi Mama, Hi!” Lulu answers jumping off the chair and running to me. I scoop her up and twirl her around while Nicole puts the book they were reading back on the bookshelf.

“Were you a good girl for Nikki today?”

“Yes Mama.”

“Always.” Nicole assures me. “We made some really good progress on letter sounds. She’s really catching on fast.”

“Josh.” I answer with a little eye roll causing Nicole to grin.

“Yeah, I saw them going through the flashcards on the plane.”

“You don’t think we’re putting too much pressure on her do you?” 

Nicole has a bachelor’s degree in early childhood education. We hired her specifically so that Lulu would have excellent care. And I trust her to tell us if we are being overly demanding parents.

“No. She’s incredibly bright. And obviously happy and well adjusted. There’s nothing wrong with using some flashcards if she enjoys it. As long as you aren’t requiring a certain amount of time on them a day, or neglecting free play and creative activities, she’ll be fine.”

“Okay, I just worry sometimes. I don’t want her to think that she has to earn our love.”

“The fact that you worry about that means it’s not true, Donna. You guys are great parents.”

“Of course we are!” Josh agrees as he walks into the room. “Who says we’re not?”

“Hi Daddy! Hi!” Lulu shrieks as she sees Josh. There’s really no doubt that she loves him with her whole being, and the feeling is mutual. He picks her up and she buries her face in his neck and blows a raspberry, making him laugh.

“All right troops. Let’s go downstairs. The news is starting to make early predictions and I’ve got cash to collect.”

He looks at Nicole. “Unfortunately for you, your boyfriend thinks that Brattleboro is going to pass a library millage. He isn’t going to be able to afford fast food after tonight.”

Nicole laughs at Josh’s boast. We all know that Ryan has a Trust fund larger than the combined annual income of Brattleboro. He just likes to egg Josh on by taking outlandish bets.

Really, none of the bets are about the money. It’s just a way to have a little bit of fun. It keeps everyone up to speed about local issues and smaller campaigns that we might otherwise over look. 

The real point of tonight is to enjoy some time together while keeping an eye on Congressional and State races and to see how voters are reacting to the Republican candidates so we can start to focus on who our opponent will be. Super Tuesday won’t wrap up the nomination for any of the Republicans, but Josh says we’ll have a pretty good idea about who it will be by the time the night is over.

And I’ll always bet on Josh Lyman.


	17. A Long Shot

“Josh! Donna! Nicole! So glad you could join us!” Matt booms as soon as we enter the East Room. “And Miss Lulu! How’s my favorite two year old?”

“I good, Uncle President.” Lulu assures him seriously, earning a quick grin and a little smirk from him. 

I don’t know why he thinks he won the name game. He wanted to be called Tio Matt. I wanted her to call him Mr. President. I think our wives came up with the compromise, calling him Uncle President to Lulu behind our backs. Given all her honorary aunts and uncles, I suppose this makes the most sense while still maintaining some decorum. But if either of us won it was me, she’s using half of the name I wanted and none of his. 

“Hi, Uncle Sam! Hi!” Lulu shouts and squirms to get down, while Sam groans and Matt out right laughs. 

After two years and a kid of his own, Sam has finally gotten used to being around little people but he still doesn’t love the name. He frequently asks me why Lulu can’t just call him Sam. I give him a song and dance about the importance of her learning to show respect and remind him that Donna and I think that he and Ainsley are too special to be called Mr. and Mrs. Seaborn. Not to mention that since Ainsley didn’t change her name, it could be confusing for Lulu. But the truth is, it’s too easy of a way to harass Sam for me to give it up. It’s just so fun to see his discomfort and to picture him dressed in a patriotic outfit with a top hat and white beard. Plus I also get to rib him about his wife’s last name as long as the wives aren’t actually, you know, around. And the piece de resistance is that Ainsley adores being called Auntie Ainsley. Everyone is on my side. And I do like to win.

Sam gives me a long suffering look when he picks Lulu up and I give him a little shoulder shrug that usually means I’d like to help him out but my hands are tied, even though we both know they really aren’t here. I can hear his sigh all the way across the room as my darling daughter asks where Auntie Ainsley and Baby Bubba are and he has to explain to my two year old why they aren’t coming to the party. Life is good.

As Sam takes his honorary niece over to the buffet table, I meander over to where Nicole and Ryan are ensconced in a corner making googly eyes at each other. “You’re going down, Dewey Decimal! And stop flirting with my nanny.”

“His name was Melvil Dewey. And although his system is still in use today many see it as arcane and biased.” I whip around to see my wife grinning at me as she drops her little truth bomb. “And leave our nanny alone, she’s off duty.”

I can practically see Ryan’s smirk even though my back is to him. “You’re still going down!” I offer as a parting shot, not bothering to look back as I start to walk away, looking for other prey.

Donna waits a beat then gives me a sweet smile as she addresses Nicole, “Please excuse Josh. Elections always amp him up to a particular peak of Josh-ness.” 

I’d be a little hurt at her making excuses for me, if I didn’t have full confidence that she knows that I’m just having fun.

“Oh pumpkin patch . . . “ she calls out to me as soon as I’m across the room. “Last chance to change your position on the Red Springs Redistricting Referendum. You know what I get if I win!”

Everyone’s heads turn towards me and I feel the tips of my ears go a little red. Great. Now they’ll all be asking me about the terms of our bet. My wife is pure evil. God. I love her so much.

Bram stops talking to Otto mid sentence and starts to type on his phone. I’m sure he’s googling the referendum. When he sees that it’s adult bookstore zoning ordinance in Alabama his eyes bug out a little bit. Then he looks up and eyes Donna and I appraisingly. I’m sure he’s trying to figure out which side each of us falls on. I change course and wander away. Let him wonder.

“Segal and Jacobs are going to have to have a run off.” Amy announces as soon as I approach her.

“I'm not surprised.”

She rolls her eyes at me. “Then why’d you take the bet?”

“I have to let you win some.”

“Well keep letting me win some at this rate and by the end of the primaries I’m going to have some new shoes myself.”

“The Fairhaven Sidewalk Restoration is passing 67-31 with 87% counted.”

“Well shoot.”

“Win some, lose some. Maybe Landon will buy you some shoes.”

“Nah. I’ve still got several bets with Skippy over there. I’ll be able to afford to buy my own shoes.”

And that right there is part of the reason that I’m meant to be with Donna and not Amy. Donna could buy her own shoes too, but she lets me do it sometimes. I like to be needed, at least a little. Once again, I’d like to kick myself for wasting my time when the perfect woman was literally sitting right outside my door. Man, I really hope that the referendum goes my way!

“Peter’s taking the girls back upstairs to play.” Donna informs me as she circles around to see what I’m choosing to eat as I graze off the buffet. “How many of those meatballs have you had?”

“I dunno. I’ve lost count.”

“Do me a favor and eat a few carrots, would you?”

“Yes, Ma’am.” I agree, giving her a small nod.

She grins wickedly and leans close to my ear. “Good. But I prefer ‘Mistress’. And you’d better keep practicing that phrase because if Red Springs goes the way I think it will you’re going to be saying it a lot.”

Everything stands at attention as her hot breath washes over me. Oh yeah, pure evil, and utterly perfect.

The night goes by and eventually I’m standing with Lou silently watching the coverage, when something catches my eye as it scrolls across the bottom of the screen.

“Oh shit.” I mutter involuntarily.

Lou looks at me with one eyebrow raised.

“They’re projecting that the Tea Party candidate will win the Republican nomination for Governor of Oklahoma.” I inform her.

“That’s bad.” She announces. “Very bad.”

“Far be it for me to tell the Republicans how to run their party. But mark my words, that movement is not going to do them any favors in the long run.”

“The question is . . . how long before they notice?” She asks genuinely. For all her gruffness and drive to win, Lou really does want to make this world a better place. I like to think that’s what learning to govern has done for her. But probably she was a good person deep down all along. Although in my experience I saw very little evidence of it.

I just give her a little shrug. I really don’t have any insight about this, but it’s why we really have to win. The fate of our Country depends on it.

A little after 8, Donna finds me again. “If we are staying much longer, I’d just as soon spend the night. Lulu is past tired. I need to either put her to bed here or take her home. Or I can just go on my own and you can stay as late as you want.”

I definitely don’t want them to go home on their own. Looking around the room, I see Ginger glance at her watch subtly. I’ll bet that most of the assistants are ready to go. I should make sure to have Margaret tell them they don’t ever have to stay for things like this. If they don’t want to. This isn’t the Bartlet White House. I don’t ever want them to feel like they can’t have lives.

Bram, Otto, Nicole & Ryan are going strong, but they can take it to the Hawk N Dove or somewhere. Karen is standing quietly next to Bram and I’ll bet she leaves with him.

I know Matt really does enjoy everyone’s company and gatherings like this promote team morale, but maybe he’s ready to have some quiet time too.

“I’m ready to go but let me just talk to Matt. It’s possible that there will be a mass exodus right after we leave and I don’t want to spoil his party.”

Donna nods in understanding. “I don’t think Helen will care if the party breaks up early. She is sending Miranda to get ready for bed as soon as we get Lulu from the game room. And once he had some food, Peter didn’t really seem to want to stay down here. He was happy to babysit the girls.”

“Do you have some cash for him?” I ask even as I’m reaching for my wallet.

“Yes, I’ve got him covered.”

“Okay, good. Can you give me five minutes while I talk to Matt and see what he’s thinking? Sam told Ainsley he’d be home by 9 if possible so if Matt wants one of us to stay, I’ll do it. I don’t want to keep Sam here too much longer. And I’d rather you didn't go home alone so if it comes to that I’d rather have you put Lulu to bed here, but it’s up to you, of course.”

Donna squeezes my arm gently, “of course you can talk to the President. Five more minutes won’t hurt anyone. I’m going to go get Lulu. We’ll come back down here so she can say good night to everyone, then we can decide together whether or not to go home.”

Donna gives me a gentle smile before she leaves the room and I’m not embarrassed when Matt catches me watching her walk away. God. I love my wife.

“I thought I heard my name.” He offers, “but you seem a bit distracted.” He smirks at me the way one happily married man does to another.

“Yeah, what are you thinking?”

“Can you be a little more specific? Unlike your wife, I can’t really read your mind.”

“Right. Listen, the polls don’t close for another 45 minutes in Minnesota, Colorado, and most of Texas. And California not until 11. Since this is just the primaries, I’m thinking about sending people home. There will be plenty more opportunities for late nights. But it’s your party.” 

“I agree. I didn’t really expect this to last more than a couple hours. You can continue your illegal gambling operation tomorrow, preferably, off the clock.” He chuckles.

Having his approval to wrap things up, I let out a high pitched whistle. Once I have everyone’s attention, I give them my instructions.

“All right people! We’ve taken up enough of this good man’s time. Please make an orderly exit. We’ll go over final results at Senior Staff tomorrow. 7:30.”

That gets me a low moan from the Bram group. 

“We could always make it 7.”

“No, no. 7:30’s great!” Bram insists. 

“All right then. See you in the morning.”

As soon as I’ve finished the group of them starts to make plans to head to Hawk N’ Dove. Bram seems to be convincing Ashley to join them. I’m sure that will please Donna.

“When did we become the old guys?” Sam laments as he joins my side.

“I think we can safely blame the children for this one.”

“That’d be a safe bet. Anyway. Ainsley wants you guys over for brunch on Sunday. You free?”

“I’ll check with the boss, but it sounds good to me.”

. . . . . . 

Backed into the corner of the couch and in control of the remote, with Donna reclining between my legs, is probably my favorite place to be these days. She’s occasionally sipping on a glass of Pinot Grigio while surfing the web to find the results of races too low key to make CNN or MSNBC.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather just have some Boone’s Farm?” I tease her.

“Hey. Don’t mock Boone's Farm just because you’re a wine snob.”

“I’m not mocking. Boone’s Farm has it’s time and place. I’m just saying, we can afford more than a $9 bottle of wine.”

“Maybe not after those Jimmy Choos.” She snarks at me. I retaliate by reaching under her t-shirt to tickle her until she begs for mercy.

“Okay, okay. Mercy!” She pleads breathlessly after a few minutes. I stop tickling but I leave my hand where it is, fairly close to her naked breasts. If things go my way tonight, I’ll be ready for some action.

She looks back at me over her shoulder with a raised eyebrow and a half smirk. She’s fully aware of my game plan. That makes it all the more fun.

“They called the Minnesota 8th for Milton. You owe me $20.” She announces a few minutes later.

“Outstanding. That’s a debt I’m happy to pay.” I’m really excited to see more younger women entering these races. If we pick up some of these seats we really could see some progress in the House. A few seconds later CNN reports the same result. I’m especially glad to see it get national coverage.

Donna goes back to her searching, and I go back to my scrolling. 11 O’clock is quickly approaching, and I’d really like to get Donna into bed before then. That leaves us time for some recreational activities before we sleep. And it’s incredible what a good night’s sleep I get after a little exercise.

“HA!” Donna shouts sitting up with glee and pointing to her screen.

Red Springs finally updated their website. The Referendum lost by a landslide.

“You gotta admit. That was a long shot.” Donna offers graciously.

“Yes. But long shots are kinda my thing. And besides, what makes you think that I’m sorry you won?”

The grin on her face is truly breathtaking as she stands up. “Turn off the TV.” She orders in a haughty voice.

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Joshua. I told you. I prefer Mistress.”


	18. Downward Dog & A Cookie

Everyone seems to be in a really good mood at the start of Josh’s Senior Staff meeting. There’s a little good natured ribbing as people tally their totals against each other. Mostly people seem to break even with each other or the loser promises to take the winner out for lunch. Turns out all the grandiose predictions of huge winnings were just hyperbole. 

Amy does end up a bit ahead of Bram and Sam, but she owes me a Starbucks. 

“Nice job on the Minnesota 8th.” She offers sincerely. “You free this afternoon for lunch? I’m open and I’d like to pay my debt.”

“Sure, sounds good. Salad at the place then we can grab coffee on the way back.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Okay, ladies.” Josh interrupts us. “If you are all set, let’s get down to business.”

“To defeat the huns.” I sing under my breath, causing Josh’s smirk while every other head turns and looks at me like I’ve gone crazy.

“Sorry. Miranda introduced Lulu to Mulan and she’s become a little obsessed with it.”

“At least it’s a girl power movie.” Lou offers.

“Well . . .” Amy starts.

“Seriously.” Josh huffs, “can we please get on with this meeting?”

“Somebody’s a little crabby.” 

“Sam!” Josh shouts. The vein in his neck is pulsing a little, causing me to frown. He’s a lot less likely to get worked up these days, but he still has a lot of stress in his life. I think we need to make time for an extra yoga session this week, a little extra meditation seems like a good idea.

But in the meantime, I can give him a hand with this motley crew. A quick Mom glare at everyone causes all of them to all settle down.

“Okay. Did everyone see Mitchell’s concession speech?”

A chorus of yeses comes from around the room.

“Ten to one he withdraws within 36 hours.” Amy offers.

“I’ll take it.” Lou jumps in. “I give him 48.”

“No. No, no, no, no, no.” Josh groans. “Enough. Time to focus, people. Yes, he’s out by the weekend, but he’s already coming for us. He took jabs at the way we handled Kazakhstan and our education initiative, and he even made a comment referring to Mrs. Baker’s health. He’s clearly auditioning for the role of V.P. also known as ‘hatchet man.’ So I want you to get ready. Go over every remark he makes, get ready to counter punch. But in the meantime, I want to take the news cycle away from him. I want some policy announcements. I want some wins to highlight. What have we got on the schedule? We need to be out in front.”

“Mrs. Santos has her normal reading mentor program this afternoon. I can try to make some hay out of it.” I offer.

“I doubt anyone will bite on that.” Josh snaps, causing my eyebrows to shoot up. 

“Sorry.” He quickly offers amends. “I love that program, you know I do. And we’ll make as much hay as we can from it, but we’re going to need something bigger than that to grab the news cycle.”

He turns towards Dave, “What’s on the VP’s schedule?” 

Dave looks startled. He’s new to these meetings. Josh pretty much left the VP to his own agenda up until now, but I know he wants a more coordinated effort now that we are moving into high gear. “Um, he’s got a meeting with a school group. In the morning today, and then the winners of the National Science Fair in the afternoon. Then he and Mrs. Baker are flying to New York to tape that show on Friday. Then they are spending the weekend in Pennsylvania.”

“Okay good. Bram talk to Ryan. See what kind of ground we are making on the rest of the education reforms. Get with Dave on some talking points and see if you can get the press to buy into an education story.”

Everyone nods their understanding as Josh looks around the room. He lets out a long breath. “Ahkay, enough of the campaign. Let’s get on with business, shall we?”

. . . .

Once the meeting’s over and I’ve received my customary peck on the cheek, I head back to my office as quickly as possible. Josh was a little longer winded than normal and I’m running a bit late for my own meeting.

As I’m zipping through the halls, I contemplate where we are. Josh may be able to separate the campaigning from his day job, but there’s practically no difference from where I sit. Truthfully, the First Lady’s office is a political machine. She has an agenda. Things she wants to do to make this country, and this world, a better place for our kids, and I’m going to use all of them to get her husband a second term so we can keep on doing them.

Sure enough Ashley and Madison are waiting for me when I arrive. “Sorry I’m running a bit behind guys. Senior staff went a little long.”

“It’s no problem. We were just going over the upcoming events. Maddie’s got some great remarks done if Mrs. Santos can grab a mike after the reading program.”

“Really?”

“Yeah!” Ashley insists. “And she’s got a whole list of Dr. Seuss quotes for Mrs. Santos to use as answers to any questions from the Press.”

“Well, I don’t think she’ll get asked about National Reading Month. I think she’ll get asked about Morgan Mitchell’s attack on her husband’s record.”

“So, Dr. Seuss answers might not really work for that, right?” Maddie offers timidly.

“Right. I love the idea, so hold on to it for after the election.” I smile at her so that she knows that I’m not upset. She’s new and she’s not a political savant. But so far she has been a very good writer. “Can I see the remarks?”

She hands me several note cards, which I quickly read. Pithy, with just a little bit of pointedness. These are perfectly crafted sound bites. As long as we keep Maddie pointed in the right direction, she’s going to be a huge asset.

“These are really great. Thanks. Now, let’s talk about commencement season. It’ll be here before we know it, and Mrs. Santos is scheduled for even more speeches than last year, so I want to get you started on that.”

. . . . . 

The rest of the morning goes by in a blur and before I know what’s happening Karen buzzes me to remind me about my meeting with Amy. Then not even five minutes later, she buzzes me again.

“Nicole just called. She’s got a little bit of an issue upstairs.”

I race up the stairs wondering if I should call Josh to come over here, but I really don’t want to add to his stress level today. I’d better find out what the issue is before I call him.

When I walk into the game room, Lulu is holding “little brother” rocking him gently and looking at Nicole with a very concerned look on her face. Nicole jumps up. Her eyes red and puffy.

“Oh Donna! I’m so sorry to do this, but is there any way I can have the rest of the day off? My sister just called and my grandmother passed away suddenly. I'd really like to go home as soon as possible. Maria can cover for me tomorrow and Friday.”

“Of course! I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do?” I wrap her up in a hug and Nicole clings to me for a minute crying softly. I feel myself tearing up a little too. I just feel so badly for her.

“No, not really. Is it okay if I go now?”

“Yes, sure. Are you okay to drive?”

She blushes a little. “Um, I called Ryan first. He said he could give me a ride home. He said he knew you’d let me go.”

“He’s right. Don’t worry about it. Lulu and I will manage just fine today. Do I need to call Maria about tomorrow?”

“No. She’ll be here by 7:30.” Nicole answers as she gathers her things and heads out the door.

I turn back to Lulu as soon as Nicole has left. She’s unusually quiet. “Hey sweetie. You okay?”

“Niki’s sad.”

“Yes, she is. But she’ll be okay.”

“She’ll be okay?”

“Yes, baby, she’ll be okay. Now, what do you say we go out for lunch?”

“Yay!”

. . . . . . . 

“Come on sweet pea, we need to get a move on.” I encourage Lulu, who has stopped to stare at yet another statute. What on earth possessed me to walk through the park with a two and a half year old? Oh yeah. An usually beautiful day. I should have blown off Amy and convinced Josh to come with us instead.

Amy is waiting out front when we finally arrive at the restaurant. She looks irritated.

“You know this isn’t really what I had in mind.” She calls out, gesturing to Potbelly’s briskly.

“I know. But they have salads, and Lulu likes the macaroni and cheese. Plus at least we can eat outside.” I argue my case, pointing to the wrought iron bistro tables out front.

“Fine.” Amy agrees tersely.

Jackie follows us inside making a quick visual sweep before turning to watch our back. When the manager sees the detail she hurries over. “Oh Mrs. Lyman. Good to see you. You don’t need to wait in line, please come with me.”

Amy looks at me in amusement and I just shrug. What can I say? We’re regulars. She’d get it if she had kids. When we get to the front she looks at the giant board with a shake of her head.

“The Mediterranian Salad is good. Or the Powerhouse.”

“Yeah. Just get me what you’re having.”

“Two Powerhouse salads. And a kids mac-n-cheese combo with white milk and an oatmeal chocolate chip cookie, please.” I tell the manager, handing her my card.

“This was supposed to be on me.” Amy reminds me.

“You can pay when we go to someplace you pick.” 

“Alright. That seems fair.”

“You can have a seat.” The manager offers, “I’ll bring it out in a few minutes.”

“Okay thanks.” I tell her brightly. As I turn to go back outside, Jackie leads the way. I hear Amy behind me mumbling something about table service but I just ignore her.

“Down Peas.” Lulu squirms. “I walk.”

Truthfully, my back is more than happy to do as she asks so I slide her down until her feet hit the floor and she’s steady.

RIght at the moment that I let her go, Jackie opens the door, and someone walks by with a dog on a leash.

“Puppy!” Lulu shouts as she takes off barreling through the door.

“Lulu! NO!” I yell after her. Jackie reaches down to stop her but doesn’t quite catch her. In the excitement Lulu stumbles over the threshold and out onto the pavement on her hands and knees.

Her wailing sets my heart racing as I chase after her and scoop her up. “Oh baby? Are you okay?”

“Nooooooo.” Lulu cries even harder burying her face into my neck and holding on for dear life. I rub her back until her cries subside, then check her hands. She’s not even bleeding. I don’t think she’s hurt. Just tired. And I probably frightened her when I yelled. It’s been a bit of a day.

Jackie waits patiently to see what I need, while Amy looks on in mild disgust at the mundane drama. I guess I don’t blame her. This isn’t exactly what she signed up for.

“I’m sorry Amy. I think I’m going to have to take a rain check on lunch. I think this one just really needs a nap.”

“Nooooooo.” Lulu wails again. “I wanna pet the doggie. And cookie.” Her renewed anguish just reaffirms my decision that lunch out in public is just not a good idea. I shake my head gently at Jackie to let her know we won’t be staying.

As Jackie radios for the trailer car to pick us up, the manager arrives with our food. “Is she okay, Mrs. Lyman?”

“She’ll be fine. We’re just going to take this to go.”

. . . . . . 

“So did you ever eat lunch?” Josh asks as he stretches himself into downward dog.

“Yes.” I reassure him as I follow suit. “Lulu calmed down once we were in the car and I gave her the cookie from her combo.”

“You gave her the cookie BEFORE she ate lunch?” Josh laughs in amazement.

“Hey. It worked.” I defend myself.

“I know.” He assures me. “That’s a patented Josh Lyman move. How do you think I get her to cooperate when I take her places by myself?”

“Oh, I know you bribe her.”

“It’s in the handbook.” Josh insists, walking himself back up to standing pose. “Parenting 101.”

“I’ll take ‘things we said we’d never do’ for 200, please Alex.” I snark along with him. This parenting thing might not be exactly how we imagined. But we’re doing our best. And Lulu’s a good kid. The terrible twos haven’t been that bad. I think we could have another, if it works out. 

We silently work through a few more poses before Josh chimes in again. “Man, I really needed this. I didn’t realize how stressed I’ve been.”

“Yeah, me too. And carrying Lulu half way through the park didn’t do my back any favors. This is really helping.”

“Well, when we’re done here, I’ll give you a massage.” Josh promises with a little eyebrow wiggle.

I know exactly what that will lead to, but I really don’t mind. Another shot at another baby and I get a massage out of the deal. Sounds like a win-win to me.


	19. We're Gonna Sue Everybody!

I see Bram hovering outside my door, so I wave him in as I'm finishing my phone call. But he ignores me.

"Go on in." Margaret tells him as soon as I hang up.

"I don't want to." Bram responds morosely, peaking my curiosity. If he doesn't want to meet with me, what's he doing here?

"Bram!" I bellow. "Get in here."

He slowly walks into the room, eyeing me wearily. I'm really not sure why. I've been much more relaxed since Donna and I made some more time for yoga.

"What's up, Bram?" I demand, trying to keep my voice light. If he's got something to say, I just need him to say it.

"Okay." He takes a deep cleansing breath. "I have to show you something, and I'd just like to remind you that I'm just the messenger."

"What is it Bram?"

He drops a paper on my desk. It's a tabloid. I quickly scan the cover. When my eyes land on the pictures on the lower half my heart drops and my blood pressure soars.

"MARGARET!" I yell as I come to my feet. Bram takes a step back at the violence in my tone. But Margaret pops right in.

"Donna's on the way." Margaret immediately informs me.

"You knew about this?" I accuse harshly, but Margaret shakes her head.

"Bram just showed me. I figured you'd want Donna. I told Karen you needed her down here right away. I didn't tell Karen why but I told her to walk Donna down here personally and to make sure no one else talked to her on the way."

"Okay." Knowing Donna is on the way calms me down. Just a little. "Get Ainsley in here. We're gonna sue everybody!"

"Yes, sir." She answers as she scurries out the door.

I pick the rag up to examine it. My stomach is literally churning. Staring back at me is a picture of Amy and I smiling at each other. Next to that is a picture of my wife holding my daughter, who is sobbing hysterically. I think I'm going to vomit.

The headline jumps off the page at me in bold letters. SANTOS' STAFF LOVE AFFAIR? LULU IN TEARS! Below the photos, the story reads: President Santos' Chief of Staff Josh Lyman was spotted in a jewelry store with long time love, Amy Gardner. Were they shopping for engagement rings? Lyman's wife, Donna Moss, who is herself Chief of Staff to Mrs. Santo was nowhere to be seen. Is their marriage on the rocks? What happens to their daughter, Leonora, age 2, if this marriage is over? See page 6 for story.

I flip to page 6. Great. More photos. These show Amy and Donna. It looks like they are arguing. In one Amy is scowling. I wonder when they were taken and where? It looks familiar. After studying them for a minute it hits me. It's the Potbelly's on 14TH. They met for lunch last week. That's the day Nicole's grandmother died. And Lulu had a meltdown.

What the hell was the press doing close enough to them to get these photos?

"MARGARET!" I bellow again, while Bram keeps his distance and silence.

"I want Ron in here too."

"Yes, sir."

I close the magazine without reading the full story. My eyes go back to the cover where Lulu's crying photo seems to accuse me of letting her down.

"Bram?" I ask him in a deadly quiet voice.

"Yeah?" He answers hesitantly.

"When did you find out about this?"

"Fifteen minutes ago. I swear to god. The intern that monitors all the newspapers had a dentist appointment this morning. She showed it to me after the briefing. I came here as soon as I learned about it."

"Hey Margaret!" I hear Donna's voice in the other room. "We were summoned?"

"Go." I tell Bram in a low voice. "Get with Amy and find out why they didn't catch it earlier, then get back with me."

Bram quickly exits through the other door as Margaret shows Donna in. Donna takes one look at my face and rushes around the desk to me.

"Josh! What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"I'm okay. But we need to talk." As I reach for the paper, Donna's eyes follow mine and she sees it before I can pick it up.

"WHAT THE HELL?" She shouts as she snatches it up.

"Baby, it's not . . . ."

"JOSH! THEY HAVE A PICTURE OF LULU ON THIS!"

Donna quickly reads the cover, shaking her head the whole time, then she flips to the continuation.

"After Lyman and Gardner's love tryst in Los Angeles, Moss and Gardner were spotted back in Washington DC arguing in front of a local restaurant. They appear to be fighting over Lyman's daughter. Gardner has no children of her own and doesn't appear to be eager to replace Moss as little Lulu's mother. But Lyman is reported devoted to his daughter and unlikely to give Moss sole custody. But one thing is clear, wIth all this political intrigue, DC is no place for this child."

"Oh my god. Oh my god." Donna chants, starting to hyperventilate.

I sit down and pull her onto my lap. "Breathe, baby, breathe. It's okay. It's going to be okay. I promise. I would never. . . ."

Something snaps her out of it. Her head jerks up in surprise and then she lets out a short laugh.

"JOSH! I don't believe that crap! I KNOW you'd never leave me for Amy. But that rag just suggested that our daughter doesn't belong with us. Do you know how many sickos read that stuff?"

"I know. I've got Ron on the way. I'm going to have him increase her protection. I want Lulu to have her own detail."

"Good."

I crush Donna back to my body and hold her tight. "I love you so much. I won't let anything happen to you. Either of you."

"I know, Josh." She pulls back and looks at me a second. "So what were you and Amy doing in a jewelry store in LA?" She asks me teasingly. I can tell she's trying to get me to relax.

"I don't even . . . let me see that again." This time I look more closely at the photo of Amy and I. "This is the boutique at the hotel. When I bought your Jimmy Choos. Amy was there, remember?"

"I remember Josh." She examines me closely. "I don't want you to worry for even one minute about that part of this. I trust you." She insists in a more serious tone.

"But, Dr. Freeride . . . "

"IS NOT YOU! I told you, before. You are better than my old boyfriend."

I study her face for a few minutes. I really don't see any doubt in her eyes. God. Even after all she's been through. She's incredible.

We hold each other for a few more moments, but when Margaret raps lightly on the door, Donna stands up. I'd rather keep her on my lap but it's really not appropriate for a meeting.

"Ron's here." Margaret announces.

"Yeah, send him in."

"Josh, Donna" Ron greets us with a grim look. "Can I see the paper?"

I'm not surprised that Margaret filled him in, and I'm relieved that I don't have to explain it. But as he's reading, I can't control the urge to defend myself.

"I'm not having an affair with Amy Gardner."

"I know."

I'm a little surprised at his immediate acquiescence. It's one thing for my wife to believe me, but I didn't necessarily expect others to so quickly.

Ron looks up and notes my surprise. "Josh. I have agents on you 24/7. I'd know if you were cheating on your wife. I wouldn't say anything, because that's not my job. But I'd know."

"Ahkay. Well. Thanks." As soon as he closes the paper, I hit him with my request.

"I want Lulu to have her own detail."

"Of course."

"It's not a problem? This is justification?"

"We don't need justification to give Lulu her own detail. Minor children of protectees often have their own agents. Until now, the two of you have felt that she was protected well enough just by being in your umbrella. If you no longer feel that way, we'll increase her protection."

"Do you think we're over reacting?" Donna asks.

"No, Donna, I don't. Given all you've been through, seeing a suggestion that your child would be better off without you . . . no. I don't think you're overreacting."

Donna gulps once and nods. I think she would have preferred a different answer. I know I would. Not that it would have changed my mind. I'd still have increased Lulu's protection, but I wouldn't mind it being overprotective.

"So, what do we do now?"

"You know the drill. Report anything suspicious. Any usual emails or letters. I'll go work out a new security plan for you and I'll have at least one new agent for you to meet before the end of the day."

"Thanks Ron." Donna quickly offers in a strong voice when he's done, but she's wringing her hands a little so I know this is bothering her more than she's letting on.

"That's what I'm here for." He replies, making his way towards the door.

"Thanks. I'll talk to you later this afternoon?"

"Of course."

As he exits, Margaret pokes her head in. "Ainsley's here."

"Oh Donna!" Ainsley cries out and rushes over to hug my wife. Donna holds on a minute longer than I would have expected. Yeah, this is really bothering her. I'm glad Ainsley is here, but hugging Donna is my job. What I need is a lawyer.

When they finally break apart, Ainsley straightens her skirt and sits down in a visitor's chair.

"Margaret showed me the tabloid. Unfortunately, there's nothing we can do. Free Press."

"It's libel. I want to sue!" I shoot back, furiously.

"No. It's not. And you can't." Ainsley retorts crisply.

"Josh would never cheat on me!" Donna defends angrily.

"That's not what I mean." This time Ainsley responds a little more gently. "See how they worded it? Everything is a question. They are not reporting false facts. It's all innuendo and suggestion. They don't come right out and accuse you of having an affair or state that the two of you are divorcing."

"But they say Lulu shouldn't be with us." Donna answers softly. "What if someone sees that and decides to take her away from us?"

"I'm sorry, Donna. Technically, they just suggest that DC isn't a good place to raise her. Legally, this paper hasn't done anything wrong. I'm really sorry, guys."

Donna looks to me for confirmation. I let out a long sigh. Unfortunately Ainsley's right.

"I know." I agree. "You're right. God. I wish there was something we could do."

"You could throw out the Constitution!" Ainsley offers sarcastically.

"Believe me, we've considered it."

Her eyes narrow a bit. "I'm just kidding." I remind her.

"He's kidding." Donna affirms, "do you know what he's suffered in the name of the Constitution?!"

"I do." Ainsley answers quietly. "Really. I do. I love you guys. I don't want to be the bad guy here."

"We know. And you're not." I assure her. " We're just a little tense right now. Thanks for your help with this. I think we just need to get back to work."

Ainsley stands up. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Not really. Just keep doing your job. That's all any of us can do."

Once Ainsley leaves I turn back to Donna. "Are you okay going back to work?"

"Yes. Are you?"

I feel a small smirk start. We are equally concerned for each other. It's nice.

"Yeah. I'll find some Republican to yell at. It'll make me feel better."

"Just watch your blood pressure."

"I will."

"Okay. I'm going to go back to my office. Call me when you know something."

"Yeah." I pull her close for a kiss before she goes. Then I let her go, but before she's out the door I give her one more instruction.

"Let me know when the emails start."

Letting Donna go back to her office and leaving Lulu with Nicole is practically unbearable. All I really want to do is take my family home. A vision of a cream colored clapboard house, half-hidden by trees, and surrounded by a short stone wall comes to mind unbidden. Home. For the first time in a long time, I really, really miss Westport.

But I try to shake it off and get something accomplished. If I'm going to make these kind of sacrifices it damn well better be worth it.

When I check my email later, I'm not surprised to find more than I usually get with subject lines suggesting that I go to hell. I ignore those and go straight to the ones forwarded by Donna.

Two of them are identical except for the sender. They are drafted in very polite terms, thanking her for her service to the country, but suggesting that if she stayed home and took care of me none of this would have happened. They conclude with the suggestion that she give Lulu up for adoption to a good Christian home.

It's obviously a form letter. That means some organization has made us the target of an internet campaign. Which means we'll get hundreds of these. Yippee.

Another gleefully suggests that Donna is getting what she deserves for supporting a pro-choice administration. Nothing says pro-life like be glad when bad things happen to people.

A couple of the emails addressed to me suggest that I dump both Donna and Amy and get with the sender. The promises of sexual gratification are explicit. Some of them also promise to be a good mommy. Creepy.

But the one that raises the hair on the back of my neck is the one liner. "I'm coming for your baby."

That's the moment I can't sit still any longer. I bolt from my office. "Tell Donna I'm on the way." I announce to Margaret as I go.

Phil is hot on my heels. He's not usually with me while I'm in the building. Ron must have decided that Donna and I might be comforted by a little show of force. He's right.

Just as I'm hitting the East Wing Lobby, Donna flies from her office towards the stairs. I know exactly where she's going.

To Lulu.

At the end of the day, we put Lulu to bed together and quietly close the door. We stand for a moment. Neither wanting to move, as if standing guard outside her door will make some sort of a difference.

I know it won't. She's not in immediate danger. None of the emails constitute a credible threat. And Ron has us well protected, two guards at the door. Several more in cars patrolling the block. Still others monitor emails and chat rooms and blog posts. But in this moment none of that matters. I'm driven by something primal, not logical. I could stand outside this door forever.

And I see in Donna's eyes that she could too. Even more, I see that she's thinking about doing it. And that's what convinces me that we can't. We did everything we could to give Lulu a normal evening. Once we'd talk to our parents, we took the phone off the hook, ate dinner like normal, then played with Lulu and gave her a bath. We took time for lots of extra reading with all three of us cuddling in the big yellow chair. And now it's time for Donna and I to try to grasp whatever peace we can for ourselves.

"C'mon." I take her hand and lead her down the hall towards our room. We undress silently and slide into bed hours before we normally would. She molds herself into my arms and I hold her tight. As I stroke her hair gently, I feel her relax. For the first time since this afternoon, I feel a bit better too. I don't know if either of us will sleep tonight, but we'll be okay.


	20. Tale of Easter Past

“Man, it feels good to sit down!” Helen exclaims falling into a wingback chair and kicking off her heels.

I take the chair across from her, following suit. Another campaign rally, another night in a generic hotel room, another day away from Josh and Lulu. I’m pumped to be out here, in the thick of it. But when I stop and sit down, I’m exhausted. Why did I schedule Helen to do this event so quickly after all of our Easter activities at the White House?

We sit in silence for a moment before she sits up a little and looks at me long and hard for a full minute.

“How are you doing?”

“I’m fine.” I respond breezily.

“Donna . . .” she drawls my name in a low warning. “How are you doing?”

I let out an exasperated sigh. The work day is over. We are technically off the clock. But Helen’s tone makes it clear that even if she’s asking as my friend, and not my boss, she’s still not going to let me off the hook.

“You know. It’s been quite a month.”

“Yes, and you’ve kept a pretty tight lid on it, but it’s time to let it go.” She opens a bottle of wine and pours us each a glass. “So, one more time. . . How are you doing?”

“I’m hanging in there. But there are moments . . .” I trail off with a shrug taking a long drink. Helen’s my friend, but she’s also my boss. And we just finished an event, and we’re still wearing our suits. This doesn’t really feel like the time to get into my personal life.

“Donna, the day is over. We’ve slayed another dragon. Can’t you just let go for a minute? I care about you.”

It’s the look on her face that finally gets me to open up. Concerned, hopeful. Maybe little hurt that I’m holding back. We’ve had a few late night conversations over the years, but it’s mostly been her sharing with me. I don’t want her to think it’s a one way street and that I’m just pretending to be her friend because she’s my boss and she needs one, but opening up is hard for me. I take another drink, then dive in. 

“Easter with my parents was particularly awful this year. All the progress Josh has made with them over the last three years just went up in smoke. And watching him just take it from them. It makes me . . .” I feel my lip wobble a bit and my eyes are filling with tears, so I stop and take a deep breath to steady myself.

“They actually think he cheated on you?” Helen asks in confusion. “How is that even possible?”

Matt and Helen’s steadfast support has been incredible. They’ve made it abundantly clear that there is not one single solitary doubt in their mind about Josh’s faithfulness. The only problem is that it made going home and seeing the accusing glares from my family all the more painful.

At my little shrug, Helen rails on. “Don’t they see how he looks at you? How completely devoted he is to you and Lulu?”

“No. Actually, they don’t see it. We only see them about three times a year. We usually visit them at Easter and Christmas, and since Lulu was born they come here sometimes in the summer. Our visits tend to be really short. Just a couple days at a time. I think they just think Josh is being on his best behavior when they are around.”

I pause for a moment, not sure I want to share what my mother said. It’s so awful. But I guess that’s what friends are for.

“You know my mom just assumed we eloped because I was pregnant, right? She figured the only way that Josh would marry me is if I trapped him. And even though Lulu was born a year after we got married, I guess that’s the skuttlebut at her salon. That I tricked him into marriage and it’s no wonder he’s roaming elsewhere.”

“That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.” Helen declares.

“Yeah, it really is.” A short bark of a laugh escapes me. “I mean, Amy’s older than I am. Whoever heard of a politician leaving his young, blonde wife for an older woman?” 

“Donna . . .” Helen moves closer to me. “You aren’t having doubts about Josh. Right?”

“NO!” I cry out. “God, no. I’m so sick of being asked that. Except at least you put it that way. My sister acts like I’m crazy for not assuming the worst. She came right out and asked me why I was so sure he wouldn’t go back to Amy, given that he’d had such a long relationship with her. She kept pointing out that I’d had a huge crush on my boss all that time he was with Amy, and that our marriage had been so sudden, and that Josh was probably still in shock from the election and Leo’s death. She said it was obviously an impulse decision. And it’s not uncommon for people to regret impulse decisions.”

“Oh honey,” Helen coos, “she doesn’t know Josh at all. The man loves you with his whole heart. He couldn’t be any more happy about being married to you. He’s like a completely different man now. I mean, granted, I didn’t know him THAT well before, but the guy I met on the campaign-- well, yeah, I probably would have assumed the worst about  _ him _ . But the Josh Lyman I’ve come to know and love, there is no way he’d ever cheat on you. I’m almost more sure of that than I am of Matt!”

“Whoa! Hold on Helen. What are you saying?” Her comment pulls me out of my own troubles for a minute. This is an election year, we can’t have Helen saying anything that would give people any room to question the President’s family values.

“He was military. That’s a lot of time apart. And then he was back and forth to DC for 6 years. There were rumors. We had to work things out.” Helen admits, matter of factly.

“Mrs. Santos,” I choose my words carefully, including using her title so she knows this is a work question, “Is there something we need to be aware of?”

Her eyes flash angrily. And I legitimately feel bad. I really do understand how painful it is to have someone accuse your husband. And she’s probably also upset that I’m turning our girl talk into work talk. But it’s the nature of the beast. I can’t just turn off the fact that damage control is my job.

“No.” She bites out. “Josh DID opposition research on Matt. If he’d had an affair, Josh would have known. They were just rumors.”

“Sophia?” I ask gently, thinking of their sweet niece. I heard about that after the campaign.

“We managed to keep that one pretty quiet. Although in hindsight we got lucky to some extent. Local people knew that she was Jorge’s so it got no traction in the Houston press. If Matt had run for Senate instead of Congress it might have been a bigger deal.”

“I’m surprised Will didn’t use it.” I tell her honestly.

“Did he know?”

“I don’t think so. I hate to say this but you were polling low enough, that it just wasn’t a priority. They thought Matt was in the race just to shake things up a bit. Russell really thought that as the sitting VP he had a lock on it, and he was much happier spending his money on things with his name on them than on digging up dirt. Plus whenever Bingo Bob went negative it bit us in the ass, so we were trying to steer away from that.”

“Vininck found out about it. Did you know that? Before you came on board, I think.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, he found Matt’s briefcase. There was a checkbook in it that Matt used to make child support payments to Anita.”

“Oh my god! And Vinick let that go?”

“Matt told him the truth. He said that at first Arnie didn’t believe him, but I guess he must have because he never brought it up.”

“Arnie’s a class act. He really would have made a good President.”

Helen laughs. “Don’t let our husbands hear you say that!” 

“Just mine.” I remind her. “Yours probably agrees. He put him in the cabinet!”

“Yeah, just between you and me, sometimes I think he wishes that he’d actually been able to convince him to take the VP slot. Baker gets on his nerves.”

“No, State really is the perfect place for Arnie. They agree on foreign policy. He wouldn’t have worked as a VP, that’s too political. . . . Now, Carol Gelsey . . . “

“Don’t let Amy hear you say her name.” Helen suggests. 

“No kidding.” I mutter. Ugh. Thinking about Amy brings me right back to my current problem. 

“Hey, I’m sorry I mentioned her name again.” Helen offers apologetically.

“It’s okay. It’s not Amy that bothers me. Really. It’s other people and the way they react. That’s what bothers me. It’s my family treating Josh differently. It’s the added secret service. IT’S MARY FREAKING MARSH TRASHING US ON TV!!”

My chest heaves as I shout at the First Lady. Oh my god. I just shouted at the First Lady. But Helen just smirks a little at me.

“There, now. Doesn’t that feel better?”

A giant sigh escapes. “You know what? It does feel just a little better.”

“Donna, you’ve been holding it together for everybody. And you’re incredible. But it’s just you and me and this bottle of wine. It really is okay to let it out. We’re friends, right?”

“Yes, we are.”

“The secret service is the worst, aren’t they?” Helen suggests, slyly.

“You have no idea.” I grumble, then when she laughs at me, I realize how stupid that was. 

“Oh my god, I’m so stupid. You know exactly what it’s like. And this is payback for all the times I’ve told you that you just have to live with it.”

“It’s not like you haven’t been living with it before now too, Donna. What’s different?” Helen asks, honestly curious.

“I don’t know exactly. I mean, obviously there are just more of them. Instead of just leaving a car out front to secure the building while we are out they leave agents at the doors 24/7 now. They don’t want us to drive ourselves at all anymore. We’re back to exclusively online shopping. I hate to say it but I miss the Saturday morning grocery trip. And I don’t know, there’s just something demoralizing about watching your 2 year old followed by an armed guard at an Easter Egg Hunt!”

“I bet that went over really well with your family?”

“Yeah, no. We’d already had that little situation with Conor’s friend at Christmas, and now this. Lulu’s agent wanted to stay inside the house the whole time. He said he “needed eyes on the protectee” at all times. He’s new. Luckily, Phil was with us and pulled rank on him because he wasn’t really listening to me. Then the guy didn’t just stand at the edge of the field, he literally followed her around as she picked up eggs. She  _ just _ moved into the parent free zone. She was the only one with an adult chasing her around!”

“Did she get more eggs this year?” Helen teases, trying to lighten things up a bit.

“Not really. The other kids don’t seem intimidated. But their parents all gave us the evil eye. Not that I blame them. Who wants men with guns in the middle of a kids’ event?”

“Yeah, I hear you. So is this guy going to be part of her regular detail. Was he a local agent or DC based?”

“He’s based here. Ron didn’t want us to just use local people this time. We had four agents travel with us. Phil, Scott, Jackie, and this new guy, Chip. They handled the day time stuff, and the local people handled the nights. I didn’t think he’d be a problem. He went with us to temple when Sylvia was here for Passover and it was fine.”

“Was there anything specific Ron was worried about?”

“No. We’re still getting those form emails suggesting we give Lulu up for adoption. But there haven’t been any specific new threats. Annabeth said that if there is nothing new to spark more stories, it could die down in a month. She said the first week is the tabloid story itself. Then other tabloids run with it the next week. Then the mainstream press feels justified commenting on the reaction because that’s newsworthy. Then it goes away.”

  
  


“Yeah, that’s what she told me when the Congressman Cassanova story broke. That was pretty short lived. Once we proved he was with me people lost interest really quick. My underwear lasted a lot longer. Mary Marsh had a field day with that one too. So hopefully her diatribe right before Easter about you and Josh was the end of it.”

“Yeah, I hope so. Spending the weekend explaining to my family why she’s NOT a credible source of information was exhausting. I swear everyone at their church thinks she’s got a direct connection to God. I think they’d just finally gotten over Josh’s tax indictment comment to her!”

“When did Josh talk to her?”

“That was 10 years ago! Bartlet’s first term. Josh could be kind of a hothead sometimes.”

“Campaign Josh.”

“Exactly. But he’s not like that nearly as often anymore.”

“I know.”

“And there were some people with cameras at the Easter Egg Hunt in Madison, so you’d think that they’d have gotten plenty of cute family photos right? But do they print those? No.”

“I know, Donna, believe me, I know. I mean you don’t want them to print anything about your family, really. But on the other hand, you’d like them to say, hey, it’s all good. They are great. But that’s not going to happen. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know.”

“So how is Josh’s Mom handling it?”

“She’s pretty resilient. She came up early for Passover since it overlapped with Easter this year. Sylvia told me that a couple of the old biddies in the retirement community made some comments, but she set them straight. It’s not that she didn’t like Amy, but she said she always knew it wouldn’t last. We used to talk about it, back when Josh was dating her.”

“Really? You talked to Josh’s Mom about his girlfriend back when he was your boss?”

“Well, yeah. I talked to her every week. She’d call to check up on Josh . . . and me. She never really pushed anything. But she always reminded me that I was the best thing in Josh’s life and that she was so glad I was there. I once suggested that maybe she should call Amy and Sylvia just scoffed. She said “ _ No, I’m sure Amy is a perfectly lovely woman, but she won’t be around that long, and I’d much rather talk to you Donna _ .”

“That’s very sweet.”

“She’s a very nice lady She’s been through a lot in life and she just handles it all with an inner strength and outward kindness. It’s amazing.”

“It must be great to have that support.”

“Yes! So much better than my Mom who, get this, suggested in front of Lulu, that I’d better hurry up and have another baby to save my marriage.”

“She didn’t!”

“She did! I was so furious. I mean, first off, she’s treating Josh like it’s true, but then acts like it’s somehow my fault or that a baby would be a good idea? It’s just crazy. And Lulu is already practically obsessed with the idea of a little brother, and we don’t even know if we can have more kids!”

“I’m sorry they’re like that.”

“Me too. I swear. Every time I think things are getting better something happens that reminds me why I wanted to get the hell out of there.”

Helen giggles. “Yeah, I hear you on that one. Mothers can be something else. So, how’d Josh take all of it?”

“He and my Dad disappeared into his office for a while at one point. Later he told me that he’d plead his case to convince my Dad that it was all a lie. And after that Dad stopped giving him dirty looks. We all know that it's best to just let my mother wear herself out on something. But at dinner Dad finally said “ _ Carlotta, that’s enough. _ ” And that phrase and that tone still works on everyone in the family. After that she stopped saying things in front of my Dad and Josh. For his part, Josh was probably a little quieter than usual. He reverted back to the super politeness that he used on them when we first got married. It was just awkward. And it made me really sad, Josh was really feeling the part of my family, and all my siblings were back to looking at him like he was a stranger.”

I pause to take a long drink from my wine goblet that Helen keeps refilling. “What really pisses me off is that we called them as soon as it happened. We told them it was all a lie. They said okay. But obviously, it’s not all okay.” 

“No. It’s going to take a while.”

“Does it get better?”

“I don’t know. My Mom & Matt have an odd relationship. I’m not sure whether or not she believes the rumors. But I decided I don’t care. As long as she doesn’t say anything bad about him in front of the kids, I just let it go.”

“Yeah. I’m there. I just wish it didn’t have to be like this.”

“Yeah.” Helen pauses to refill our glasses again. Then after we’re both quiet for a while she asks, “so are you good, or do you need to vent some more?”

I give myself a little mental check and realize that I really do feel better after talking it out with a friend. “I’m good.”

“Okay, well good, because, here we are, we’ve still got a lot of wine, and I bet you have more stories to tell me about the Bartlet Administration.”

“Did I tell you about CJ and the curse of Bast?”


	21. No Crying in Baseball

As I carry Lulu into the room I hear bits and pieces of Donna’s conversation with her Dad.

“Yes, I’m sure, Dad.”

. . .

“Okay.”

. . . 

“Yes, I’ll tell him.”

. . .

“Thanks, Dad. I love you, too. Okay, here’s Lulu.”

I transfer Lulu into Donna’s arms and as I’m leaving the room I hear her chipper little voice.

“Hi Gampa, hi!”

Say “Happy Father’s Day” Donna prompts her as I slide the door closed behind me. As I wander to the den, I wonder if I should have stayed and talked to Jim myself? Wished him a Happy Father’s Day. He’s not my dad. That’s for sure. And he doesn’t even come close to what Jed and Leo mean to me. In fact I don’t think the man even likes me. But without him I wouldn’t have Donna and Lulu so it seems the least I could do would be to show gratitude by wishing him a happy day. Hopefully the round of golf at Hains Point will be enough.

I thought we were making progress. Donna’s family and I. Especially since Lulu arrived. But the reception they gave me at Easter has me feeling like maybe it was all just superficial. I mean, it was tabloid journalism! Was it too much to expect the benefit of the doubt?

At least Finn and Julie remained a small beacon of hope. They called the day the article ran just to check in. He swore that my promises that the story was fake weren’t necessary, insisting that he didn’t believe that crap. But he also told me not to worry what anyone else thought, to remember that as long as Donna trusts me that’s all that really matters. I should have recognized his words as a warning. But I didn’t.

Sean and Bella claimed to understand but they were both fairly emotionally distant from me at Easter. And after we got home, Donna told me some of the down-right mean things Bella had said to her. It’s a very good thing for Bella that I didn’t over hear any of that. I don’t care what she thinks about me, but making Donna feel like she’s stupid for believing in me is completely unacceptable.

But when it comes to the blame game, Donna’s mother reigns supreme. Lottie is a real piece of work. I still don’t think I fully understand the complexities of Donna's relationship with her. At this point I think she may be the only one in the family I haven’t convinced that I didn’t cheat on Donna, but she didn’t seem angry at me. It took me a few days to get a read on her but it finally came to me that she was acting smug. She fully expected something like this and she feels vindicated. 

But the irony is, she is completely committed to keeping us together. Somehow, in her mind, divorce would be the worse sin. I don’t even pretend to understand where she’s coming from. She came right out and told Donna “these things happen when a woman doesn’t keep her man satisfied.” Disgusting! But how do you explain to your Mother-in-law that you are completely satisfied by her daughter? We have a great sex life. I have absolutely no interest in other women. Later I found out that her comment wasn’t really about sex. It was about traditional gender roles. Donna’s mom still seems to think that it’s Donna’s job that is to blame. I’m at a loss as to how to defend Donna against the charge that she’s to blame for something that never even happened! 

What took me by surprise was how much I was bothered by the look of accusation in Donna’s Dad’s eyes when we walked through the door. I found myself feeling guilty over something I didn’t do, so eventually I begged Jim for an audience so that I could convince him of my innocence. I will say this. He heard me out. And when I was done, he said he believed me. And I believed him. And he put a stop to the snide comments from Lottie-- at least while I was around. After that the rest of the weekend wasn’t quite as bad. There seemed to be a little bit of a thaw from Sean and Bella. And Lulu had a great time with her cousins and her grandparents. And that really is the most important thing.

But Jim’s parting words are still haunting me. “I just wish they didn’t have to live in that world.”

Man, I wish my Dad were around. He knew how to balance a career and family. He’d have been able to tell me what to do. And he’d have been such a great grandpa. It breaks my heart that Lulu won’t ever know him. And that he’s not here to see my greatest achievement. He would have loved her so much.

“JOSH!” Donna bellows. And is immediately echoed by her mini-me.

“JOSH! . . . I mean DADDY!!”

I’m sure Donna corrected her. If we aren’t careful she’s going to be calling us exclusively by our first names by the time she’s three. And I love hearing her call me Daddy too much to let that happen.

“In here!” I call out, even though if I just waited they’d be sure to find me soon. This isn’t a very big apartment. We really should think about looking for a house in the suburbs.

Lulu runs into the room, a piece of blue construction paper flapping in her hands.

“DADDY! I FOUND YOU!” She shouts in glee, flinging herself towards me. The look of pure joy on her face yanks me out of my morose mood. I’m happy to scoop her up and snuggle her close.

“Careful, Daddy.” Lulu admonishes me, “don’t smush my picture.”

“Ahkay. Can I see it?”

Lulu nods emphatically, thrusting it in my direction. “It’s for you.”

When I turn the paper over I find a little yellow hand-print. “That’s mine!” Lulu announces holding her hand up so I can verify that it’s the same size.

“I see that. It’s very nice.” I point to the title on the page, reading it aloud. “Five reasons I love My Daddy, by Lulu Lyman.” Lulu grins and counts along holding up her fingers, which I kiss as I read to her. 

“One, he gives good hugs. Two, he reads me stories. Three, he sings. Four, we play dollhouse. Five, he loves me.”

“I sure do love you!” I tell Lulu as I squeeze her tightly. “Thank you so much I’m going to put that in my office at work!”

I don’t put every scribble she’s made up in my office, but this one is frame worthy. Nicole does a good job making sure the special occasions are covered. 

I’ve been wondering if we should consider preschool. I’m not worried that Lulu’s not learning enough, but I do wonder if she should have the opportunity to be with other kids during the day. Socialization is important. I don’t want her to miss out because we are sheltering her too much. 

On the other hand, the thought of her spending her days away from the White House gives me heart palpitations. Sure, she has a detail now, but is it enough? How can I let her out of the building knowing that there are people out there that think she’d be better off taken away from me? The adoption form letters have almost completely stopped, but it’s the ones that don’t warn you in advance that you really have to worry about. 

“That’s not all we got you.” Donna offers holding out a small rectangle package wrapped in bright blue paper. She’s grinning one of her biggest grins and my heart leaps.

This looks exactly like the right size box for a pregnancy test. I hope that’s what it is. What a great surprise that would be. If she is pregnant, she can’t be very far along. I haven’t seen any symptoms, but I’ve kinda lost track of her cycle with all of the travel she’s been doing.

I can’t help but give the box a little shake as I take it from her but the rattle it makes doesn’t give me any sort of a clue so I quickly tear the paper off then pop the lid open.

My heart drops as my eyes land on tickets to a Mets game but I try to mask the feeling with a big smile. 

“New York Mets v. Washington Nationals, Friday July 2, 2010. Nationals Park. This is awesome! Thanks!”

“Helen and the kids got Matt tickets too. We’re all going.”

“That’ll be fun. A night game? Do you think Lulu will be okay?”

“She’ll be fine. We’ll have a box. And my parents will be here too. They are coming for the Fourth of July. And Conor and Carly too.”

“Great.” 

Donna’s face drops at my tone and I immediately feel bad. None of this is her fault. She’s trying to give me something I’ll like.

“C’mere.” I hold out my arm and she joins Lulu and I on the couch. “Thanks for the presents. I love them but all I really need are my best girls. I love you two so much.”

“Love you too, Daddy.” Lulu giggles as I hold the group hug a little bit longer than necessary.

“Okay, pumpkin, let’s make Daddy’s lunch before the game comes on.” Donna suggests.

“Ahkay, Mama.” Lulu agrees sliding off the couch. Then she looks back at me. “ You stay right here, Daddy!” She instructs with a little foot stomp and a dramatic point to the couch. Where does she get it?

“Yes, ma’am.” I quickly agree with a small salute, causing her to giggle again.

While they are gone I flip through the channels, pausing on a Sullivan campaign ad. It’s new. I’m not surprised. Now that he’s the presumptive nominee, the ads will be geared even more toward the general election. Once he picks his VP and they have their convention we’ll get even more.

As soon as the ad is over, I move on, settling on ESPN. I hope we can watch the game without political interruption but it’s probably too much to ask. At one point in my life I would have appreciated being able to keep up with politics while watching a game. Now, I’d just like a day where I focus completely on my family. But now that I’ve seen the ad, I can’t really stop myself from pondering the state of the campaign.

Our fundraising is going well. And of course we’ve got practically unlimited funds from the DNC. Matt’s a fairly popular sitting President. It shouldn’t take extraordinary funds to get him re-elected. His polling numbers took a little dip just after the tabloid story, but his numbers have always been somewhat volatile depending on the state of affairs in the Middle East. Right now things are going well there. I only hope it stays that way.

Sullivan shouldn’t pose a serious challenge to our base the way Vinick did. As a pro-choice moderate, Vinick made us spend money, we didn’t have in places we never had to before. I’m still amazed that we won. But Sullivan is solidly and very vocally anti-abortion. His base doesn’t care about anything else. They won’t stay home this time. We have to make sure that our side gets out to vote as well. The biggest campaign battle might be the battle against apathy.

“Say it Lulu,” I hear Donna whisper just outside the door.

“Hot Dogs! Fresh Hot Dogs!” Lulu yells a second later, walking into the room waving foil wrapped packages. 

“Peanuts! Get your Peanuts here!” Donna follows behind calling out her wares. They are both decked out in Mets gear. Donna’s wearing my lucky cap, a Mets jersey, and some short-shorts that make me want to grab her and haul her into my lap.

Lulu is wearing Mets bows in her hair and a blue, orange and white tutu to go with her sparkly Mets t-shirt. Where does Donna find this stuff? It’s adorable.

“Here, Daddy.” Lulu thrusts a hot dog at me. The middle is pretty mangled and when I open it, the hot dog is broken in half.

“I’ll take that one.” Donna offers, setting her tray down on the coffee table and joining us on the couch.

“No way.” I quickly inform her. My baby gave me this one. I am eating it. Donna’s tray has all the condiments so I can make my dog exactly the way I like it. It also has 2 beers and a juice box. I know it’s a holiday if I’m getting to start with my own beer.

And when Donna opens the other and takes a swig, I also know that she's definitely not pregnant. I’m a little less disappointed than I was earlier. Yes, I would like another child, but at least Donna’s not sick. There really are a lot of risks to having another baby. Our family is perfect just like this. 

I open my beer and clink the bottle against Donna’s. “To the best girls I could ever ask for. Thanks for giving me such a great day.” I tap my bottle against Lulu’s juice box and she giggles.

Lulu watches for the first inning, which starts with two quick outs on a pop fly and a line drive. David Wright keeps us alive with a single, then when he steals second base, I manage to slip my hand up Donna’s shirt without Lulu noticing. Then Ike Davis strikes out.

Lulu loses interest pretty quickly, so Donna helps her get the dollhouse and bring it into the den while I watch the Yankees go down in three. The next two innings are uneventful until the bottom of the Third. My phone buzzes three times as Gardner, Jeter and Swisher each get a single, loading the bases. Obviously, Toby is watching. 

“Aw man!” I groan when Teixeira hits the ball to deep left. “No! No! No! No!” I shout as the Yankees round the bases and cross home.

Lulu scowls at the T.V. “Daddy okay?”

“Yeah, baby, it’s just a game.” Donna tells her. “Don’t worry, I’ll make Daddy feel better later.”

My head perks up at that announcement, even as my phone buzzes with more taunting from Toby. I pick it up with a groan, ready to face his harassment.

“Just remember,” Donna smirks, “there’s no crying in baseball.”


	22. She Won't Care

I glance at my watch as we pull up by the East door. Ugh! I hate running late. I don’t think I’m going to have time to run up to my office before we leave for New York. I probably should have discouraged Josh from getting in the shower with me, but I really can’t resist him when he gives me that look with the dimples. 

Still at least I’m not actually late. We aren’t scheduled to leave for another ten minutes, and Matt isn’t usually early. I have enough time to walk through the building to the West Wing and be in the lobby before they arrive. It would have been nice if Scott could have just dropped me off there, but the motorcade is already lined up and waiting.

I arrive in the lobby just before Matt and Helen sweep through with their entourage. Helen doesn’t invite me to ride with them so I head toward one of the SUVs a couple cars back and slide in.

Amy looks up in surprise.

“I, ah, . . . .” I’m not really sure what to say. We haven’t really talked since this whole thing started.

“You can’t avoid me forever.” Amy snarks.

“Yeah?” I answer sliding the rest of the way into the car. The truth is, I haven’t been avoiding her, but I haven’t gone out of my way to talk to her either. “Funny. I don’t recall ever telling my assistant not to put your calls through. So . . .”

“Yeah. Same.” Amy agrees, and we stare at each other awkwardly for a few minutes. Exactly whose job is it to make the first move when the Tabloids manufacture a lie like this?

“Josh said--”

“Is everything--”

We both break the silence at the same time, and that seems to break the ice, both of us laughing a little and gesturing for the other person to go first.

“Please, go ahead.” I practically beg.

“Josh said you don’t believe the tabloids. He said you guys are fine?” She sounds bit nervous.

“I didn’t believe them. Not for one minute.” I tell her in the strongest voice possible and I see a flash of something in her eyes. Anger? She purses her lips together, and then it hits me. I guess it’s a little insulting to her. Technically she had Josh first. She’s annoyed that I’m so confident that he’d be faithful now. I’m not so sure how to address it. But I guess I should give it a try.

“Amy, Josh and I have something really special. We waited a long time and overcame a lot of hurdles to get to this point. I’m sorry if my complete faith in his fidelity seems like an insult to you, but really it has nothing to do with you and everything to do with Josh.”

“You get him.” She spits out.

“Yeah. I do, and I won’t apologize for that.”

“And I guess I was one of the hurdles?”

“I didn’t look at it like that then. You’re part of our history, part of what made Josh who he is today. I’m not going to lie and say it wasn’t painful to watch at the time, but it’s not like I didn’t cause him some pain along the way too.”

“Oh, believe me, I know. I was so sick and tired of hearing about your gomer of the week. It wasn’t even funny.”

I give her a little shrug. I don’t have much else to say about this. I really don’t want to spend much time discussing Josh & my relationship with Amy. I don’t hold a grudge against her, and I don’t believe the rumors, but she’s just not my favorite person in the world. Still, it feels like she’s one of the victims here too, and I should at least acknowledge that.

“So, are you and Landon okay? Was he angry?”

“No, he wasn’t angry. He’s happy all the time. I used to find that annoying.” The look on her face when she says the last part makes me think that maybe she’s finding it annoying again.

“Yeah, I can see that. Josh was PISSED. And so was I. I mean, how dare they publish a blatant lie? And to use Lulu’s picture?” My voice rises as I finish my rant. I’m not really over this. I think I’ll always be angry at Tabloid Journalism.

“See, that’s what I mean.” Amy admits. “It would have been nice to see a little bit of that from him. Anger at the tabloids, hell, even anger at me. He’s so damn calm about it, it makes me wonder if he even cares at all.”

“Oh, Amy, I’m sure he does.” I try to reassure her. “I’ve seen how he looks at you. He loves you. I’m sure he’s just got faith in you, and he’s way more chill than the rest of us.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. He’s not like anyone I’ve ever dated before. He doesn’t have an agenda. He’s just who he is. And for some reason, he seems to love me.”

“I’m glad you found him.”

Amy’s eyes narrow a bit and I realize that once again my comment sounds a little condescending. But again, I’m not going to apologize. Amy is wired to view things as a competition. Nothing I can say will change the fact that I won. And she might deny it until she’s blue in the face, but we both know it’s true.

“Me too.” She eventually agrees softly. And I’m relieved that this seems to be behind us.

. . . . .

“For God’s sake, smile!” Amy instructs through gritted teeth as we exit the car in front of the venue. My eyes practically roll back in my head involuntarily. Like I don’t know this? Like I wouldn’t smile, even if we weren’t about to walk into a press event. Like I don’t know that not every “reporter” outside this car isn’t friendly.

Still, she has a point. The tabloid story about her alleged affair with my husband has almost completely died, though it was a slower death than I’d have preferred. This is the first time that Amy and I have been together in public since then, and the last thing we need to give them is a photo where either of us looks unhappy.

So I plaster a grin on my face as I follow her out of the car. 

. . . . . 

I can’t say I’m unhappy when on the way back from Baltimore, Matt and Helen invite me to ride with them in the Limo. Without Amy.

“Are you excited to see your folks?” Matt asks unassumingly. Helen shoots me an apologetic look. Obviously she must not have told him that things have been kind of rocky with them lately.

“Um. . .” I’m trying to tread lightly. I don’t want to bad mouth my parents to the President. But I don’t want to lie either.

“Be sure to bring them by,” he continues with a little glint in his eye, “I want to impress upon them how incredibly valuable you are and how lucky the whole country is to have you as part of this administration. I want to make sure they know that your talents are not being wasted and that no one is being neglected.”

Ah. So if Helen didn’t talk to him, Josh did. Unless I intervene, my parents are going to get a bit of a Presidential dressing down.

Matt’s staring at me, one eyebrow raised, clearly expecting a response. So I give him the only one that’s acceptable.

“Yes, Mr. President.”

Helen gives me a little smirk, and I’m back to thinking she’s the one who talked to Matt. That really does seem more likely. But I’ll ask Josh tonight. If it wasn’t him, he needs to know.

I hope that the pick up went well. I imagine it would. Something that Josh has in common with my parents, especially my Mother, is the ability to ignore the elephant in the room and play nice when the situation calls for it. Plus Lulu being there will be enough of a buffer. Everyone will put on a good show in front of her. Even though my Mom gets under my skin she really does love my daughter.

“So Donna, are you having dinner with them tonight?”

“Yes. Josh is getting them from the airport and getting them settled into their hotel. Then we’ll have dinner there. The kids will probably stay with us tonight. Then tomorrow Josh is taking my Dad and Conor golfing in the morning before the baseball game. Mom, Carly, Lulu and I are going to the Hirshhorn Museum and Sculpture Garden in the morning. Do you and Miranda want to join us?”

“Sure.” Helen readily agrees. 

“What about me?” Matt asks a little sullenly. “I haven’t been golfing in three years!”

“You wanted to be President.” Helen smirks.

“It’s Josh’s fault. He had a 9 point plan.” Matt banters back with a smile.

“And you have been golfing.” Helen continues. “Up at Camp David.”

“That’s not really the same.” Matt grumbles a little.

“I’m not sure the Secret Service would like the idea of doing this at the last minute, but I’m sure we can get you a T-time. The course will have to bump people though.” I inform him, making a mental note to talk to Josh about making sure Matt gets to play. They really haven’t taken many vacations in the last three years. Just a few trips up to Camp David and a few home to Houston. Maybe that’s something we need to talk about as their Chiefs of Staff.

Matt holds up a hand. “No, no. Don’t do that. We definitely don’t want to inconvenience anyone just so I can play. But I really wouldn’t mind having a chance to have a little chat with your Dad.”

Now I’m feeling a bit nervous. I thought he was just trying to make me feel better when he mentioned it before. But now I’m thinking he really does plan to call my folks out. Being the leader of the free world really does make a person feel like they can do that I guess. President Bartlet has contemplated calling my parents more than once himself, but I’ve nixed him every time.

“You really don’t have to do that. They’re perfectly nice people.”

“I know.” He insists. “I’ve met them before. But they aren’t perfectly nice to you, Donna. Family has a way of being like that sometimes. And a little reminder wouldn’t be out of line.”

“No offense, sir. But I just don’t think it would go over that well with them. And I’m not completely convinced that it wouldn’t do more harm than good in the long run. Josh and I will just wait it out. Eventually this will all blow over.”

“I hope so.” Matt offers as we arrive back at the White House. “But you’ve got my number if you need me.”

. . . . 

I’m still thinking about Matt’s offer later as I head upstairs to get Lulu. I really don’t want Presidential interference, but it does make me feel good to know that he cares about me enough to offer.

Really, just another example of how right I was to go to Manchester all those years ago. And it’s part of the reason I’ve stayed at the White House all these years. I know CJ thought it was just a wild crush on Josh, but it wasn’t just that. It was being part of something greater, but it was also the bond that I forged with everyone who was doing it with me. We all really did care about each other. We became a family. And like a family we didn’t get along perfectly, but I knew that CJ, Toby, Sam, Leo and the Bartlets really did care about me. They made me feel good about myself. Even when I joined Will on the Russell campaign, I still felt like I was a part of it all. Sure Josh was a little hurt and a bit angry, but everyone else understood. And in hindsight, deep down, Josh understood too.

The Santos Team doesn’t have exactly the same vibe, but we’re still a strong team. We work well together and we do care about each other. And now there’s really no doubt that Josh and I are changing the world together. I wouldn’t give this up for anything. Hopefully someday my family will understand. But if they don’t, I can live it with.

“Aunt Donna!” Carly cries out, getting up and running toward me as I walk through the door.

“Hi Mama, Hi!” Lulu greets me, following after her cousin. Miranda stops playing with the dollhouse and looks up and smiles at me.

“Hey Sweetie! I didn’t know you were going to be here!” I wrap Carly up in a big hug. See, there are people in my family who love me.

“Miranda invited me to come over.” Carly immediately informs me. “She wants to have a sleepover tonight! Can we?”

“Did you talk to your Mom about it yet, Miranda?” I ask as Lulu reaches me and I scoop her up into my arms. I’m pretty sure that she hasn’t or I’d have already heard about it. In fact, I’m surprised I didn’t hear that Carly was in the White House, it makes me think that the girls may have pulled one over on Uncle Josh. That wouldn’t surprise me at all. Bartlet’s Bulldog is just a big softie at heart.

“No, but she won’t care.” Miranda assures me.

Hah. That’s the standard line of kids everywhere trying to manipulate adults. But still, Miranda doesn’t have a lot of friends. And Carly really does enjoy spending time with her, even though she’s a little younger. And they don’t see each other very often, even though I know they do communicate regularly. Technology is pretty amazing.

“Okay. Well, I’ll talk to your Mom, and then I’ll have to clear it with Grandma Moss.”

“She won’t care!” Carly insists, making me laugh a bit to myself.

“We’ll see. How about you guys clean up in here and I’ll go see what I can do.” I set Lulu down. “Lulu, go help Carly and Miranda put the toys away. I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Ahkay, Mama.” She agrees, happy to be included with the big girls. Miranda is pretty good with her, and she really loves Carly.

“Is your Mom in the kitchen, Pete?” 

He looks up from his homework and smiles at me. “Yes, I think she’s making enchiladas for dinner. I hope Carly can stay.”

The way he says Carly’s name sets my spidey-senses tingling. I wasn’t surprised to see him in the daycare room. In fact, watching Lulu from 5 until Josh or I pick her up is his after-school job, so that Nicole can work 10 hour days instead of 12 hour days. But now I’m thinking that today might have been a little bonus for him. He and Carly are the same age, and they hit it off right away, but given the long distance it didn’t really occur to me that something could be brewing there. I wonder if I should tell Josh?

“Hey, that smells good.” I tell Helen as I walk into the kitchen.

“Thanks, it’s almost done.”

“Did you know Carly was coming over today?”

Helen laughs. “No. I found out about that when we got back to the Residence and Miranda was sitting on pins and needles waiting for her to arrive. Seems like my daughter convinced your husband without telling the rest of us.”

“Sorry about that, Miranda’s got him wrapped around his little finger. Carly too.”

“It’s fine. Actually it was kind of nice. It reminded me of the good old days when the kids could have friends over at the spur of the moment.”

“Speaking of which, I was just lobbied for a sleepover.”

“Hah!” Helen laughs. “I’ve been expecting them to ask me. But Miranda knows you’re a pretty easy mark too. So I’m not surprised they waited for you.”

“Are you okay with it?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. They want to watch a movie tonight. As long as you’re okay with it, so am I.”

“I suppose I should check with my Mom to make sure she’s okay with it too. But really she sees Carly all the time. As long as I bring Lulu to dinner, she won’t care.”


	23. The Greatest Thing Since Sliced Bread

I can’t decide who is more excited to arrive at the golf course. Matt or Conor. Once Donna told me that Matt misses golfing on occasion, I checked with Ron. It turns out that a golf course is a pretty easy thing for them to secure, especially when no one knows in advance that the President is going to play. And they had already cleared the tee times around mine and made arrangements for my detail. When I explained all this to Matt he jumped at joining our foursome. And when you are the President, no one is going to blink if there are five in the group.

He may be a Republican, but my Father-in-law is not immune to the pomp and circumstance of arriving in the Presidential limo. He’s sitting back against his seat in stunned silence with a look of wonder. I may have forgotten to tell him about the fact that the President was joining us in advance. Knocking him for a loop gives me the upper hand. But in this moment, I see both my wife and my daughter in his face, and it momentarily endears him to me.

Conor on the other hand is on the edge of his seat. He’s drinking in every word that Matt has to say. This a Moss look I’m very familiar with. And it’s equally enamoring. I’m so glad he chose to attend Georgetown. I can’t wait to have him around more.

Finn’s not completely unaffected either. But he’s aware enough to see that I’m playing his Dad a bit. He doesn’t seem to mind, because he’s smirking at me. And that’s a Donna look too.

It’s hard to stay angry at the Moss men when they remind me so much of my wife.

As we play, Matt is using the captive audience to talk about his true passion, changing our educational system. By the back nine, Finn has found his tongue and is engaging in spirited debate, pushing back on some of Matt’s crazier notions. Notions that I know Matt is resigned to never seeing implemented during his administration but still likes to take out for a spin from time to time. I appreciate Finn’s real world experience and his willingness to share it with Matt. It’s information that is invaluable, and hard to get sometimes. Most people only tell you what they think you want to hear. Or they just tell you that you’re wrong. It’s really nice to engage in a real debate where everyone involved really does just want to do what’s best for our kids.

Jim and Conor are pretty quiet, but they chime in here and there. It reminds me of Donna in the early days. She was a sponge, absorbing every morsel, filing information away in her brain for later, then asking a question or making a statement that would stop me in my tracks and get me looking at the situation from a completely new perspective.

“In a free society you need a reason to make something illegal, not legal.” I blurt out.

Matt stops in his tracks and looks at me. “What?” I can tell from his expression that my comment has nothing to do with the current discussion.

“Nothing. It’s just something Donna said one time. I don’t know why I just thought of it.”

Matt smirks. And I see him get a calculating gleam in his eye. “Probably because your wife is one of the most brilliant women I know.”

His head tilts a bit and he looks out of the corner of his eye at Jim. “Wouldn’t you agree, Jim?”

Jim’s mouth is hanging open just a bit, but he has the presence of mind to snap it closed and stand a little taller. “Yes, Donna was always good at school.”

I’m a little surprised at his attempt to get the topic back to education. And if I wasn’t immediately pissed that he seems to be trying to divert it off my favorite subject, I might be a little impressed. But DAMMIT, the President of the United States just complimented your daughter, and all you have to say is she was good at school?

I’m about to lose it on Jim, but Matt quickly slides in.

“Oh, I’m sure she was. But that’s not really what I’m talking about. Not only is Donna incredibly intelligent, she’s really smart. There’s a difference, you know. Intelligence is just about what you know. Smart is what you do with it. She took what she had and found a way to do so much more with it than anyone would have ever expected from her. She’s been advising the President of the United States for the last 12 years. Do you know why not one, but two, Presidents have listened to her?”

Jim shakes his head slightly.

“Because not only is she smart, she’s also got really good instincts. She’s a very good judge of character.”

At that Jim frowns. I know what he’s thinking. Her choice in men hasn’t been stellar.

But Matt doesn’t let either of us keep that thought for very long before he obliterates it. “Oh, I know all about Dr. Freeride, as Josh likes to call him. But at first that probably wasn’t a bad choice. Med student, he was probably charming, abusers usually are some of the time. And she may have stayed with him too long, but that speaks to Donna’s tenacity, and her incredible capacity for forgiveness, and unfortunately also to her low self-esteem at the time.” 

Matt fixes Jim with an accusing stare at the last bit, and Jim squirms just a little, while I try to keep from smirking.

“But she learned from that situation, and she picked herself up, and made an incredible life. And the next man she chose was the opposite. Far from charming.” 

Matt grins at me. “But of unimpeachable character.” He turns back to Jim. “Do you hear what I’m saying? I trust Josh without any reservation. The only person on my staff that I might trust more than Josh is Donna. I didn’t need them to tell me that the Tabloids were lying. I knew it the minute I read it.”

Jim looks more than a little embarrassed. “I’ve told Josh that I believe him. But you’re right. I should have had more faith in him to begin with.”

“Not just him,” Matt insists. “How do you think your lack of faith made Donna feel?”

He steps up to the Tee. “FORE!!” He yells before taking a mighty swing.

Jim is quiet again through the next couple holes. I can see that he’s working through some things in his mind. His expressions are so much like Donna’s when he’s thinking.

But Conor is getting bolder and bolder. He’s having an actual conversation with the President. They are talking about Matt’s experience at Annapolis and what it was like to live in a place so unlike home for the first time.

We are walking towards the carts to drive to the final hole when Jim lightly touches my arm. 

“Is Donna okay?” He asks in a gruff voice.

I’m tempted to lay into him. To assault him with every harsh word he’s ever said to his daughter. To remind him of every disapproving stare. To interrogate him over the unjust childhood punishments that she’s hinted at. But all Donna really wants from her family is peace and a modicum of acceptance. Tearing into Jim now won’t help. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to let him off the hook. So I look him square in the eye.

“I will  _ always _ make sure she’s okay. But sometimes you guys really hurt her. She’s been trying to get your approval her whole life and she thinks that you don’t see the things she’s achieved as real accomplishments.”

“We do! We’re very proud of her.” Jim is quick to respond in what sounds like a sincere voice. I stare at him for a minute, evaluating whether or not to push harder. I do think he means it. But I can’t resist one more zinger.

“It’s not  _ me _ you have to convince.”

. . . .

It’s almost 2pm when I get back home, so I enter the house as quietly as possible since Lulu might be napping. I tiptoe past her door and into our bedroom where I find Donna propped up in bed with a book.

God, she’s so sexy. I just stand and start for a moment, enjoying the view. When Donna looks up, she jumps.

“Geez o’ pete, Josh!” She hisses at me. “You scared the crap out of me.”

“Geez o’pete?” I laugh. “Is that the best you can do?” 

Donna looks sheepish and just shrugs at me. Our swears have gotten ridiculously mild now that we have a little two year old parrot living with us. I used “Gosh darn it!” In front of Matt Skinner the other day and he almost peed himself laughing. But neither Donna or I want Lulu to “take the Lord’s name in vain” in front of  _ any _ of her grandparents. It’s just not worth it.

“How was golf?” Donna asks, putting her book down.

“It was good. Matt had a little chat with your Dad.”

“Ugh.” Donna groans. “Helen had a go at Mom while we were at the Sculpture Gardens.”

“Really? How’d that go over?” I would have liked to have been a fly on the wall for that.

“Oh, you know my Mom. She’s not going to make a scene in public, especially with the First Lady, and cameras around. But I’ll probably hear about it later. I really kinda wish that Matt and Helen hadn’t stuck their noses in.”

“They love you, they just want to help.”

“I know. But it’ll probably just do more harm than good. The story seems like it’s finally blowing over. We really don’t need to stir things up again with the family.”

“I know, but it seemed like maybe your Dad was actually listening to what Matt had to say.”

Donna perks up a bit. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

“He really is starting to mellow in his old age.” Donna is thoughtful for a moment. “Well, if we can get Dad on our side, then maybe I won’t hear as much from Mom, at least while he’s around.”

“Has she been bad?” 

This was a big concern of mine. Taking the guys golfing this morning while all the girls went to a museum meant leaving Donna on her own to deal with her Mom. And after how things went at Easter, I really didn’t like that idea. But Donna insisted that she could handle her Mother. And she reminded me that she is a grown woman, with the God given right to make her own choices. She appreciates my husbandly protectiveness, but only in small doses.

“Not too much. She gave me a few pointed looks, especially with Helen’s passive-aggressive lecture. I tell you, if I wasn’t the subject, I’d kind of like to see the two of them go head to head. But mostly Mom just doted on the grandchildren.”

“Did they like it?”

“Julie, Carly and Peter really did. They got quite a bit behind us because Julie was spending a lot of time discussing each piece with them. I think it was a little over Miranda’s head. She started out with them but ended up back with us at one point.”

Something about the way Donna says Carly and Peter together makes my radar go off. I didn’t even know Peter was going with them. He said he had too much summer reading when I invited him to golf with us.

“Carly and Peter?” I ask, just to test my theory.

Donna gets a slow smile. “Yes. They were as thick as thieves. I think young love might be in the air.”

“They’re only fourteen!”

“They’ll be fifteen soon.”

“Still.” I’m going to have to do something about this. Carly is way too young to be dating. Her Dad isn’t here so I’m pretty sure it’s my job to put an immediate end to this whole thing. I like Peter but he’s a boy!

“Joshua.” Donna drags my name out, breaking into my thoughts. “You will not sabotage this.”

“I’m not . . .”

“Josh.” She says my name pointedly, with a raised eyebrow. And I know without a doubt that she can read my mind.

“They see each other once a year, and if they are lucky they’ll be able to hold hands while surrounded by the Secret Service. I promise you are not failing as an Uncle if you just let this be.”

“But . . .”

“I know from experience that Carly could do a lot worse for her first crush. This is Peter we are talking about. Really, if we should be worried about either of them it’s him! He’s the shy, sheltered one.”

“Okay, but I’m not sure about this.”

“I know. But since Lulu’s napping, why don’t I find a way to take your mind off it.” Donna wiggles her eyebrows and slowly peels off her shirt.

. . . . 

Having box seating for a baseball game never gets old. I love being able to get up and down as much as I want. And all the food is fantastic.

Matt and Helen are still on their “Donna is the greatest thing since sliced bread” campaign to her family. Finn and Julie are starting to get amused. I think they are looking for ways to mention Donna specifically to get a reaction. But Donna is over it. Her cheeks have been a perpetual pink for the last 45 minutes and her eyes aren’t sparkling. It’s time for me to tell the leader of the free world to knock it off.

I know they mean well. But that’s half the problem. Donna is an adult. We should honor her wishes and let her fight her own battles. Except me. I can butt in.

“Did you know that Donna once saved social security?” Helen is telling Jim as I pull Matt to the side.

“Okay. I appreciate what you guys are doing, but I think we should lay off a bit and let it marinate. If we come on too strong they are going to see it as a snow job.”

“Okay. You’re the strategist. But it just irks me! How can they possibly not see how great Donna is?”

“I don’t know. To some extent we’re all guilty of under-appreciating those we love the most, aren’t we?”

“Well said. Maybe we should have you working on the speech for the convention.”

“Yeah. I think they are missing an important voice. So what do you think of this- You can lay down in front of the train or you can get on board?”

“I think you should stick to strategy.”

“Ahkay.”

When I rejoin Donna, she and Conor are talking about his tour at Georgetown tomorrow. I almost feel bad for the advisor coming in on a holiday weekend to meet with him. But his favorite aunt is a famous Alum, and that’s worth something in this town.

Lulu spys the cracker jack box in my hand, and when I shake it at her, she abandons Gampa Moss and makes her way over to me. As she climbs into my lap, I give him a charming grin. He’s no match for a master strategist.

After the cracker jacks, Donna cuts both Lulu and I off on the sweets. But the Mets beat the Nats 5 to 3. And Donna’s Father’s Day gift gave us a chance to create some great family memories while also turning a Friday night into free live ESPN coverage of POTUS and family enjoying the National Pastime. Brilliant strategy.

  
She really _is_ the greatest thing since sliced bread,


	24. Independence

It’s the fourth of July weekend and I’d like to declare my Independence. I’m ready to be free from my Mother. Unfortunately, she’s going to be here in less than five minutes.

Who’s bright idea was this? Oh right. Mine.

Objectively, I understand what Matt and Helen were trying to do at the game last night. They were showing me that they have my back. They come from a culture where family does that. But it’s not how I was raised. And chances are they did as much harm as good between me and my Mom.

They might actually have made progress with my Dad. He gave me a long hug before they went back to the hotel, and thanked me for letting them be part of our world.

If nothing goes wrong the rest of this weekend, maybe that attitude will rub off onto Mom a bit. I can only hope. That’s probably why I had this cockamamie idea to let them babysit.

The look on Josh’s face was priceless when I suggested it. It’s a true testament to his emotional growth that he swallowed down his objection and heard me out.

Lulu’s two and a half and we basically never let them babysit. It’s occurred to me that at the same time we are asking for their trust and faith in our marriage, we are denying them our trust and faith to keep our daughter safe for an hour. My Mom knows that Sylvia has watched Lulu many times, while she’s been mostly denied the opportunity. It really irritates her. She’s right. It really isn’t fair.

Letting her spend a week with them is still out of the question, but we can give them a little bit of time this morning. 

Conor has his special tour at Georgetown. Josh made the mistake of mentioning in front of my Mom that he'd like to go too. She was quick to volunteer to watch Lulu so we could both go, pointing out that there is no good reason to take a toddler with us. 

I hate to say it, but Mom’s right. I don’t mind Josh joining us, but I have no intention of taking Lulu. Thus, this plan to have my parents watch Lulu here while we’re gone. 

I’ll admit, even while I was explaining it to Josh, I was half hoping he’d veto the idea. But he just took a deep cleansing breath, rolled his japamala beads on his wrist, and said it was a good plan.

So why is my stomach in knots? My parents have watched the other grandkids lots of times, And it’s not like we are leaving them completely alone, anyway. Chip won’t let anything happen to Lulu.

. . . . 

“Donna!” Professor Brown greets me like a long lost sister. Maybe to an extent we are, women in politics. It’s still not a very big club. “It’s so good to see you. In person, that is, I see you all the time in the news. The First Lady is making a lot more appearances, isn’t she?”

When Cynthia pauses for a breath I return her greeting. “Cynthia. It’s good to see you too. Thanks for coming in on a holiday weekend. This is my nephew, Conor Moss.”

“Oh Conor, it’s so nice to meet you. We’re very glad you’ve decided to become part of the Georgetown family.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” Conor responds quietly.

“None of that. Please call me Cynthia. All my students do. You’ll be one of my students, right? You’re planning on studying political science? I bet you get that from your Aunt.”

“Yes. . . and my Uncle.” Conor answers glancing over at Josh, who has been slightly amused by Cynthia’s exuberance, but now is puffed up with pride at Conor’s admission.

“Oh. Did you go to Georgetown, Mr. Lyman?”

Josh looks surprised that Cynthia doesn’t know his history, then replies a bit smugly. “No, I went to Harvard. And Yale.”

“Ah, well . . .” Cynthia responds dismissively, and I have to stifle a giggle. Most people are impressed by Josh’s pedigree. But this is Hoya country. “Let’s get started, shall we?”

For a holiday weekend, it’s a nice tour. Cynthia has keys to the political science building and is able to show Conor the lecture halls and classrooms. Conor asks some really good questions about the curriculum involved in the different majors. He’s clearly done his homework on what the school has to offer and is looking for an insider’s perspective.

The library is open and Conor is duly impressed. I’ll admit, it’s one of my favorite places on campus too.

When the tour is over we take a few extra minutes walk around campus and I’m able to show him some of the hidden gems. I really do love this place. I’m proud to be an alum.

Conor’s grin is a mile wide and his eyes are shining the whole time. I’m relieved that he’s so excited about the campus. I had wondered if his decision was based too much on his desire to come to DC because he admires Josh so much, but it seems clear that this is where he really wants to be.

I’m looking forward to having him nearby.

. . . . . 

“Can we go to the Museum of American History now?” Carly implores Josh as soon as we walk in the door.

“I don’t know . . .” he stalls, looking at me for help. He’s still not very good at saying no to the girls in his life.

“Please,” she begs Josh.

“We’re going this afternoon, after Lulu and Kate’s nap time.” I remind Carly that we already have a plan. “Uncle Finn and Aunt Julie will be here soon. We’re going to Dumbarton Oaks for a little bit, then we’ll stop at Pizzeria Paradiso for lunch.”

Carly huffs a little but doesn’t say anything, flopping down on the couch. I wonder if this has anything to do with Peter joining us at the Museum? Teenagers.

. . . . . . 

“This is really beautiful.” Mom says as we are walking through the gardens at Dumbarton Oaks.

“It’s one of my favorite places.”

“I can see why you like it.” She pauses for a moment, “When we’re here, visiting you. I can see why you like this city so much. It’s just like you-- eager, brimming full of ideas, almost too much to take sometimes.”

I bristle a bit. This is just like her, even her praise stings a little.

“Thanks for letting me watch Lulu this morning. It really meant a lot to me.” That surprises me. While I suspected that it was a big deal, I didn’t expect her to acknowledge it. 

“She was good for you?”

“Yes. We played with the dollhouse most of the time. Man, your daughter can talk!”

“She takes after her father.”

At that, Mom burst out laughing. “Oh Donna! You were just like her.”

“Really?”

“Yes. You could talk like nobody’s business. A lot of my friends said that the youngest is the quietest, but not you. You were always in the thick of it, asking a million questions. Wanting to be included.”

“I guess I drove everyone crazy.”

“No, Donna. Your siblings adored you.”

I can’t help but roll my eyes. That’s not how I remember it. Mom laughs again.

“Okay, maybe not when you were in Junior High and Bella was in High School. She had her own agenda and it didn’t include a tag-along little sister.”

“She used to call me Donna-tattle-tella!”

“Well, you _were_ a good source of information.” Mom quickly retorts.

“You don’t know the half of it.” I tell her smugly. She thinks I’m the black sheep, but her other kids weren’t perfect either.

Her eyes flash a minute and I wonder if I’ve ruined a nice moment. But it passes. “I’m sure. And I’d rather just stay in the dark, thank you.” She tells me righteously.

We walk in silence for a few moments, watching Josh talking animatedly with Finn and Julie while keeping an eye on the kids who are all skipping along with Dad.

Mom breaks the quiet again. “I feel bad that we don’t get to spend as much time with Lulu as the other grandkids. And it’s easier to blame that on this place, or Josh, than to admit that you probably just don’t want us to.” 

Well. That was more direct that she usually is. I wonder if this is the result of all the Presidential pressure. And dang it, she’s right again. I don’t want to spend more time with them than we already do. I’ve built a new life for myself. And I like it. But I have to be careful with how I say that.

“I know you don’t understand. These jobs, they aren’t for everyone. But it’s like a calling. I’ve always felt it. I want to do something bigger than me. I want to be part of changing the world. And part of the price for that is less free time.”

“That’s not the only price you’re paying.” Mom points out, gesturing to the secret service agents nearby.

“No, it’s not. And I don’t think you’ll ever understand, and I’m sorry for that.” I tell her honestly. I’m not sorry for my choices, but I do wish we could have a better relationship.

“Me too.”

And that’s probably all the apology I’ll get for the cutting remarks and disapproval. Truth is, I don’t think she says them to be mean. She just doesn’t really ever consider whether or not she’s hurt someone’s feelings.

Josh glances back at me, checking to see if I’m okay with my Mom. It’s kind of sad that he’s worried about that. But I’m okay. 

. . . . . 

“My turn!” Kate announces pushing Lulu to the side so she can captain the ship in the middle of Wegman’s Wonderplace.

“Kate! Play nice.” Julie instructs her. “No pushing.” Then she turns to me. “Don’t believe them-- it’s not the terrible twos. It’s the terrible threes.”

“Really?” 

“Yeah. I’m not sure whether preschool hurts or helps. We got great reports for how well behaved Kate was all year and now all of a sudden we are home for the summer and she’s constantly pushing the limits.”

“Literally.” I respond as Kate gives Lulu another little shove. It’s not hard, and it’s really no big deal, but Lulu bursts into tears.

Chip starts forward, but Mom beats him to Lulu and scoops her up, taking her over to the kitchen to distract her, while Julie gives Kate a quick talking to. Then Julie takes Kate over to the kitchen to apologize.

“Sowwy.” Kate tells Lulu in a serious voice that makes me want to say “awww.” Luckily, Lulu has already forgiven Kate and wraps her up in a big hug before handing her a wooden spoon to stir with. It would be nice if the rest of the world could handle our disagreements so easily. 

It’s quite wonderful to see my Mom playing with both girls. She has them gather wooden food to make fake Italian Wedding Soup. I think she feels comfortable in the pretend kitchen. And that’s fine. I’m glad she’s found her place in the world. I just hope she’ll come to accept that it’s not necessarily my place, or my daughter’s place.

After everything is in the pot and each girl gives it a stir, they are ready to move on. Lulu wanders over to the wall that has all sorts of knobs and switches and locks and begins turning, and knocking, and flipping things, while Kate goes over towards the chicken coop.

When Lulu climbs the stairs to the miniature clock tower, Chip moves from his spot so he can keep a visual on her.

“That really is kind of eerie.” Julie comments as we watch him visibly relax when Lulu comes down the slide in one piece. “A built in babysitter, with a glock.”

“You get used to it. But he’s not really a babysitter.”

“Still it must give you some piece of mind?”

“Yes. I mean, I’d rather not need them at all. At the beginning I really thought about turning down the detail altogether. But given some of the letters we get, I’ve come to see the benefits.”

“Are you still getting them?”

“Every once in a while. But the fervor seems to have died down. The Tabloids have moved on to other fake stories.”

“I always look at the covers in the supermarket, but I never buy them.”

“Yeah, I used to do that. But I don’t anymore. If there’s something I need to know someone from communications will tell me.”

“Are you worried about being out in public? That someone will take Lulu’s picture?”

“I’m not worried about it right now since there aren’t any reporters around. Most normal people don’t really recognize us. And the people that do, don’t really care that much. Josh’s fan club has pretty much given up on him.”

“His what?” Julie looks confused.

“You can’t tell my Mom about this, okay?”

“Okay.”

“There’s a website. LemonLyman.com. It’s Josh’s groupies. It was really active during Bartlet’s first term, people posted on it all the time. But it’s died way down, just a few regulars and they really do talk more about politics and positions than Josh these days.”

“What did they talk about before?”

“What he wore, where he was spotted, who he was dating.”

“You’re kidding!”

“No. It’s pretty funny. You can still see some of the older posts if you go on it. But seriously don’t tell my Mom. I know he tries to act like he doesn’t care but it bothers him that she thinks he could have cheated on me. And her knowing about the website isn’t going to help.”

“I don’t think she still thinks that.”

“I don’t know.”

“Seriously. Sean told Finn that your Mom told Bella to knock it off. Josh is family.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear that. I know that everyone thinks that I’m a terrible judge of character, but I learned my lesson. I didn’t make the same mistake twice.”

“Honestly, Donna, we don’t think that. It’s pretty obvious to anyone with eyes that Josh is completely devoted to you. Bella’s just jealous. You have a glamorous life and an amazing husband and daughter.”

“Her kids are great too. And Bob’s a really good guy.”

“I know. And she’s happy with her life. But you know how competitive she is. . . . she just doesn’t like playing second fiddle.”

“Yeah. I mean, she’s my sister, and I love her, but I’m glad that we live a thousand miles apart.”

“You and me both.”

“I wouldn’t mind living closer to you and Finn though.”

“Maybe when this is over you can move to Green Bay.”

“Well, hopefully we won’t have to think about it for four more years.”

“You know President Santos has our votes. But do you think about it at all? The what-if?”

“Not really. I mean, the Brownstone is paid for, and there would always be work for us in DC. And I think I’d like to go to law school. But I don’t know if we’d want to stay here if there was a Republican Administration.”

“We have law schools in Wisconsin.”

“Can you really picture Josh up in Green Bay?”

Julie laughs at the thought. “No. I guess not. But he’d follow you wherever you wanted to go.”

“I know. But our life is here. You know, we’ve got schools down here. You and Finn could get teaching jobs nearby. There’s a huge shortage.” 

“Our life is up there.” Julie answers softly.

“I know.” I guess that’s the only problem with independence. Sometimes you miss out on being with the people you love


	25. Fireworks & First Kisses

The Fourth of July is a weird holiday for the executive branch. Legislators have it easy. Congress is in recess, so they all go home to their constituents, walk in parades, shake hands and kiss babies. You know, remind people who they are before the next election. DC isn't really home for the President and only contains a very few of his constituents but the country expects to see him here. So he'll give a speech from the Rose Garden, and he'll host a celebration for vets on the South Law, and he'll watch the fireworks from the Truman balcony with his family. There will be television cameras and photo ops, but it's not really a holiday for him.

Summer is not that much of a break for me either. Sure, the pace is slightly slower when Congress isn't actually in session, but only marginally so. We've still got a country to run.

There are troops in Kazakhstan and the West Bank to monitor. Administrative Agencies that don't take a hiatus and are looking for more face time with us. And rumor has it that Henry Clark is considering retirement. I wonder if Matt will get to appoint a new Supreme Court Justice before the election

That would send the right wing into a frenzy. From a campaign standpoint, appointing a new justice might not help us at this point in the game. We already have files on potential nominees. But filling the bench just doesn't mobilize the left the way it does the right, even though it should.

It's one of the most long-lasting Presidential decisions. So of course, if there was a vacancy we'd fill it. And that would without a doubt mobilize the right. Ray Sullivan would go ballistic if we appointed a liberal lion to the bench. His campaign is already all about the Courts, the Courts, the Courts, the Courts. Every other speech is a harbinger of the way the Court will swing irrevocably to the left if Matt has a chance to replace one or two Justices.

Nevermind that Bartlet appointed Mulready. Nevermind that the left has always tended towards moderates and balance. Most of our current contenders fall into that category. After all, we still have a Republican Senate that we'd have to get to confirm our nominee. Maybe, just maybe, we can flip the last seat this November and have the option of appointing someone more progressive leaning.

I'll never understand people who split their ticket. Do they want gridlock? Do they want empty promises that no one has the power to fulfill? Or do they not have a clue? Are they guided only by whatever names they happen to remember from whatever ad ran during their sitcoms or whatever yard sign was closest to their kids' elementary schools?

Seven years of political science classes and no one could ever explain the phenomena to me. I wonder if I could figure it out? I wonder if I could pass that onto the next generation, so maybe they could do something to increase civic engagement, increase turnout of informed voters, and change the world.

"Hey Good Morning." Donna greets me, wrapping her arms around my neck and planting a kiss near my ear.

"Morning, sweetheart."

"Lulu's still asleep?" She asks through a yawn that makes me smile. I still can't believe that for almost ten years I thought she was a morning person.

"Yeah, I think the weekend is catching up to her a bit."

"Me too." Donna agrees, sitting down with a cup of coffee and a yogurt. "I'm ready for my family to go home and for life to get back to normal."

"It seems like it's been okay though? Right?" I haven't seen or heard of anything major, but her family has this odd way of fighting where no one really yells but they seethe and make everyone miserable. I haven't noticed that either, but it doesn't mean it's not happening behind my back. And if it is, then I'll find a way to get Donna away from her family for most of their last day here.

"Yeah. It's been okay. Julie and I had a nice talk yesterday. And my Mom's been surprisingly warm. I think she really is glad to have some time with Lulu. It makes me wonder . . ."

Donna trails off, leaving her thought uncompleted, but I really want to know what she's thinking.

"Wonder what?"

"If we lived there- if we had normal jobs, would I be closer to my Mom? Would the bond of motherhood make us friends? Like she and Bella are."

"I don't know- is it something you'd want to try?" I'm a little surprised to hear her talking like this, but I'm glad she's telling me. I don't want our jobs to ruin our life, now that I've discovered how nice it is to have one.

Donna wrinkles her nose, but doesn't say no, so I give her a little more to consider. "We don't have to live in DC forever, you know."

"Actually, that's kinda what Julie and I talked about. And no, I don't think so. I don't think it's something I want to try. I really love this city and culture. I always wanted to get out of Wisconsin. I don't want to move back there. I don't want my parents' life."

"Okay. I have to admit, I don't really see myself living there either. But there is something to be said for Midwest values. The focus on the family. The work ethic. The slower pace."

"You sound a politician." Donna accuses me. "Don't want to offend any voters in an election year."

"It's not just that-" I insist. "And at some point we're going to have to figure out what comes next."

"Daddy! Mama!" Lulu calls from the nursery.

"Well, there you go." Donna smirks as I rise from my chair. "She's what's next."

It's a throwaway comment, but it strikes me. Yes. She is what's next. Not just in this moment but for our whole future. But more importantly she's my right now too. Having a life is incredible.

Sure, it would suck if Matt loses but it's not the most important thing anymore. I may not know exactly what I'll do if this election doesn't go our way, but I know who I'll be doing it with.

"Good Morning, Princess Lulu."

"Good Morning, Daddy."

As soon as I give her a kiss and set her down, she's off to the bathroom. I follow her down the hall but stop to stand outside the door just in case she needs help. She probably won't. She's really got this down. She sings a little song to herself as she tinkles and washes her hands, then she runs out of the bathroom with no pants on. She likes to be naked. She gets that from me.

When I catch up to her in her bedroom, she's removed her shirt as well.

"Hey you little streaker. Let's get dressed."

"I want kitties."

"Of course you do." Thanks to Mom, Lulu now owns at least 10 pairs of panties with kitties on them, so it's not a difficult request to grant, and once I hand her a pair, she quickly pulls them on.

"DONNA!" I yell just for fun. "DO YOU HAVE A SPECIAL OUTFIT FOR LULU?"

She's pretty much been wearing red, white and blue all weekend, but since today's actually the 4th, there's probably a tutu or something.

"MAMA!" Lulu mimics me, giggling. We're probably both going to get in trouble for this, but I give my accomplice a grin as she flashes her dimples at me.

Sure enough, Donna shows up at the door, scowling playfully at us. "I swear, the two of you are absolutely incorrigible."

"Incorig?" Lulu tries the word without much success.

"In-core-age-able." I sound it out for her. "It means beyond repair. But Mama's just teasing us." I turn to Donna, giving her my best  _ I'm sorry _ smile, "Right, pretty Mama?"

"Yes, I'm just teasing." Donna agrees, walking to the closet to look through it. "Do you want to wear a tutu, today Lulu?"

"YES!"

"Red or Blue?"

"BLUE!"

That's my girl.

"Okay." Donna agrees, pulling it off the hanger. "How about you go eat breakfast like that, and I'll get your clothes ready for when you're done. That way you won't get them messy."

"Ahkay, Mama." Lulu agrees, skipping out of her room and heading toward the table.

"That's why you're in charge." I tell Donna, planting a kiss on her before I join Lulu.

. . . . .

I love watching Lulu run around the South Lawn. Red, white, and blue curlicue ribbons in her little pigtails, red and white striped top, the blue tutu over blue bike shorts dotted with white stars. Not that I want her picture in the paper, but against the backdrop of the White House, she could be a model. My all-American baby. In moments like this, it feels like this is where we belong.

It's not just her outfit, although I do have to laugh at myself for noticing such things, it's the whole ambiance. On today of all days, how can anyone not love this Country and want to see it live up to its glorious potential?

While the kids play on the lawn, the adults are spread out on a couple of blankets. The band playing patriotic music is far enough away that we can hear it between snatches of conversation, but it isn't overwhelming.

"So, what did you do this morning?" Jim asks me lightly. I think he's really making an effort not to sound accusatory, but I can't help but wonder if he believed me when I declined attending church with them so I could get some work done.

"I met with the head of the Secret Service for a final threat assessment for today's activities. Each activity has to be individually vetted and get approval from both Ron Butterfield and the Chief of Staff. We actually decide which church service the First Family will attend shortly before they leave the White House. In addition to that, today the President had a citizenship ceremony, a reception in the blue room, a speech, and of course he wants to attend this event and meet as many veterans as possible. It's quite a bit to coordinate."

"All of that this morning?"

"Yes. Of course all the planning is done in advance by other teams. Donna's pretty involved in some of that with the First Lady's office. But if either Ron or I decide that the risk level has become too great, we can make adjustments or cancel the appearance all together."

"I see. Well, we missed you." Lottie offers cautiously. Donna's right. She is acting differently. I'll take it.

"Thanks. Did you enjoy the Service?"

"The Church is beautiful!" Lottie gushes. "Have you ever been?"

I see Finn grimace out of the corner of my eye. He's a history teacher. He probably knows all about Leo's funeral. Thinking of Leo always stings, but lately I've noticed that it's not as bad. As my family grows, I'm able to think of him without as much pain, but man, I do miss him.

"Yes." I assure Lottie, without telling her the reasons I'm familiar with the Cathedral, "It's a beautiful church."

"This really is a nice event." Jim continues making small talk. "It's nice to have a military man back in the White House. And honoring veterans like this."

"President Bartlet held this event too." I quickly defend Jed. Then to ease the tension, offer something conciliatory- "I'm sorry I didn't think to invite you before. Thank you for your service."

"It's what we did." Jim says gruffly.

Donna says he doesn't really talk about his military experience. He joined right out of high school, did a three year tour, then came home, started working at his Father's insurance agency, and then married Donna's Mom as soon as she graduated high school. A year later they had Sean, then a baby every two years for the next six years. But for what I know of him, he's still somewhat of an enigma to me. They really weren't Sixties flower children, more like the 1950's Leave it to Beaver. I honestly would like to get to know him better. But this doesn't really seem the time or place to delve into a deep history.

And then Sam saves me, appearing out of nowhere with Ainsley and her parents. Seeing them reminds me of how good I actually have it. Because for all their quirks, at least my in-laws aren't bigots. Sam has stories that would make your hair curl.

"Hi guys!" Ainsley greets us brightly. "Can we join you?"

Donna breaks off her conversation with Julie. "Of course, come sit by us!"

Sam looks at me in desperation. So I decide to be a real friend.

"Ainsley- would you mind terribly if I borrowed Sam for a few minutes? I promise we'll be less than an hour."

"Oh, of course not," Ainsley agrees distractedly as she unfolds their blanket while her Mother gets Bartlet out of the stroller.

Donna smirks at me, fully aware of what I'm doing, but indulgently waves me off as she starts the introductions.

As soon as we are out of earshot, Sam lets out a deep sigh. "Thanks, man. I owe you one."

Sam and I don't really talk much on the way back to the West Wing. We greet people as we go, but both keep moving. Once we reach my office, Sam looks at me expectantly.

"Well?"

"Oh, I don't need you. I figured we'd catch the end of the Mets game. Then go back."

"What if they ask what this was about?"

I give Sam a look. "Code word clearance."

The timing is perfect. We're able to see the Mets wrap up a 9-5 win over the Nats. Sam doesn't really care that much, but I have to spend the walk back trying not to look too happy. A little happy is okay because this is a party, but if I'm too happy no one will buy the work excuse.

When we get close to the blanket, we can see that the girls are gone, hopefully to get food, but our Fathers-in-law are sitting there, with our children on their laps.

"Like that, they look pretty harmless." Sam mutters under his breath.

But as we get closer we can hear their conversation. "And that's why President Lassiter was the greatest President of our time." Earle is telling the kids, who are listening intently.

Oh, hell no.

Sam and I rush forward to rescue our progeny from their depraved grandfathers. As I scoop Lulu up, I see Jim flash Earle a sly look, and I suspect I've been played. In any case, I'll be spending more time discussing history with Lulu this week. I don't want to take any chances.

. . . .

"I can't believe we get to do this." Julie whispers to Finn as they settle in to watch the Fireworks from the White House roof. Finn just grins at her. Last time they were here, Kate and Lulu were too small so Julie and I ended up skipping out. I didn't really mind that much. I'm not a huge fan of fireworks.

Donna spreads out our blanket, and I sit down with Lulu on my lap. She's tired and I think she could fall asleep, but Marco has her excited about watching the show, so, against my better judgment, we're going to try this.

I can't help but notice that Carly quickly joins Peter on his blanket, sitting pretty closely. He smiles shyly at her and she beams back at him with a smile just like Donna's!

That kid is a goner.

For the rest of the night, I watch them instead of the display.

Sure enough. At some point she drops her head to his shoulder, and he wraps his arms around her.

I look around trying to decide whom to alert.

"Look at Carly and Peter!" I finally whisper in Donna's ear during the finale.

"Shhhh!" Donna admonishes me, but just as she turns her head towards them, Peter leans down and gives Carly a quick peck on the lips.

Donna breaks into a smile and for a moment I forget that I'm against fireworks and first kisses.


	26. Fairy Godmother

“Hi Pumpkin!”

“Hi Mama, Hi!” Lulu greets me but doesn’t get up from the table where she’s sitting with Peter. Her tongue is sticking out just a little as she concentrates. She looks so much like Josh’s baby pictures right now. So I pull out my phone and snap a few quick pictures. I’ll email them to Mom later. The clicking distracts Lulu from her task, and she looks up, brow furrowed in annoyance, this is even more classic Josh, so I quickly snap a few more.

I love the “josh looks” I’m getting from her. But since I’m an expert in smoothing ruffled Lyman feathers, I know that giving her a chance to talk, especially about her accomplishments,will keep her from slipping into a bad attitude.

“What are you making, sweetie?” 

“Kitties.” Lulu answers, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, as she rolls another clump of play-doh on the table. That’s when I notice that there are several lumps of play-doh lined up, next to a large play-doh cat, that is actually recognizable by its ears, tail, and whiskers. Peter must have made that one. He’s really good with Lulu for the 90 minutes or so that he watches her between when Nicole leaves and I pick her up.

“Tia Donna?” Peter asks hesitantly, as I walk towards the play area to straighten up the room a little bit.

“Yeah?”

“I was just wondering . . . do we have any campaign stops in Wisconsin soon?”

“Um, after the Convention, I think.” 

“Do you think you can schedule an event for my Mom in Wisconsin next weekend?”

Oh. I should have anticipated this. I noticed how cozy he and Carly were getting last week over the Fourth of July. 

“Wisconsin’s a swing state.” Peter continues, “there’s no such thing as too many visits. We could even make it a whole family thing. You know, let them take pictures of all of us together.”

Well, if he’s willing to endure the press, I know he must really like my niece. I think they make a cute couple, but I can’t say I really want the press within 10 feet of that story. We want coverage of Matt’s accomplishments and agenda, and while I do want some wholesome family images, I’m still stinging from manufactured family drama. We need to avoid a repeat of that!

Still, having a willing, smiling Peter on the campaign trail is something I think Amy would be all over. 

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Peter gives me one of his shy little smiles, and now I really want to help him out. Not for the sake of the campaign, but because he’s a good kid. He’s been through a lot these last four years and he really doesn’t ask for much. If Matt wins a second term, all of Peter’s teen years will be spent in this fishbowl. All of his dates will be fodder for speculation. He deserves to have a chance to fall in love away from the public eye. I’ll definitely bring this up with Amy tomorrow.

. . . . 

After the intercom buzzes, Karen informs me-- “I’ve got Amy Gardner on line one.” 

“Hey Donna. What’s up?” Amy asks without prelude. I appreciate that we don’t really need to make small talk.

“I was just wondering if there are any campaign events we could air drop into in Madison or Milwaukee next weekend? Someone in a close race who’d like a few words from the First Lady?”

“Looking for a visit home?”

“Something like that. . . . Actually, I might as well tell you. It’s a special request from Peter. He’s interested in my niece, Carly, and has enlisted me for logistical support. He’s even willing to do some photo ops. You in? “

“You wanna make hay out of his relationship with your niece?” Amy questions me, with obvious confusion.

“God,no. He’s willing to be part of a First Family Photo Op if it lands him near enough to Madison for a rendezvous.”

“Is Helen on board? You know I’m not her favorite person, I don’t want to add to the ill will.” 

I can hear Amy typing as she talks, so I’m pretty sure she’s already on board, but I’m willing to placate her as much as necessary to get the info that I need.

“I haven’t talked to her about a trip yet. I wanted to make sure we’ve got something to offer as cover. But she thinks Peter and Carly make a cute couple, so I don’t think it’ll be an issue. In fact, if you can’t find anything suitable, then I’ll talk to her about arranging something else, but if we can double dip and make some campaign hay, why not?”

“I like the way you think.” Amy compliments me with a little laugh. It feels good. I like it when she and I get along. “So, President Santos is currently scheduled for a quick pop in Toledo on Friday afternoon. He’s touring the Jeep plant there. Then he’s in Chicago on Saturday for a special summer commencement program at Loyola. Mrs. Santos has a clear schedule right? We’ve been trying to keep one of them home for the kids until after the convention.”

“Yes. The President is back Saturday night. Mrs. Santos has a brunch in Baltimore on Sunday afternoon.”

“Okay, so we could add a Friday night event in Wisconsin and turn it into a three state family affair.”

“Hmmm, Saturday night might be better. Mrs. Santos might not want them skipping school. How’s this-- you see what’s out there without making any promises, and I’ll check with both sets of parental units and make sure that our fairy godmother-esque behavior is well received.”

“That sounds like a good course of action, and if you don’t mind, leave my name out of it until it’s approved, okay?”

“Chicken.”

“Ha! You’d know, chicken fighter.”

“That’s fair. Thanks for the help, Amy.”

“Sure. I hope it works out. I’d love to have some new footage of the family to work with.”

. . . . . . .

Now the question is, who’s next? Should I check in with Sean and Becky or my boss? Probably Helen. If she approves, we’ll end up doing these events whether or not Peter and Carly get to spend any time together. And if she doesn’t approve there’s really no reason to have a conversation with my big brother about his little girl dating the President’s son.

So, Helen it is, and in person would be best. I’m not sure whether it is good or bad that Helen is in the office right now. On one hand this is a very personal discussion, on the other, it’s a political issue. I guess since we are where we are, I’ll begin with that.

I have walk-in privileges to Helen’s office much like Josh does with Matt. And now that we are back in the standard FLOTUS offices, Helen is literally right next to me. So I tap lightly as I open the door.

“Oh Hi Donna! I’m almost done reading through this week’s correspondence. There are some really good letters. A very articulate request to visit a girl scout troop and another to participate in Girls-on-the Run.”

“Where?”

Helen picks up two letters that she had set off to the side and looks at them. “The troop is in Oklahoma and the race is in New Jersey.”

“When’s the race?”

“Not until Fall, Mid-October. Their group will meet after school for ten weeks to train for a 5K but this young lady and her friends are training on their own all summer. She wants to know if Miranda and I will join them. She wanted to give us time to train over the summer so we can keep up.”

“That sounds fantastic. Is it something you’d like to do?”

“Yes. I used to run to stay fit in college, but I got out of it when the kids were younger. I’d like to get back to it.”

“Do you think Miranda would want to do it? We could find out what the girls are doing to train over the summer and try to match it. And we can have Angie post updates of your progress on the blog. We can make it a whole physical fitness initiative, and encourage others to join in from where they are. Maybe even have a section for people to send in photos or to let us know how they are doing.”

“I love it. I think Miranda would like it too. It might help her feel more included, like she has friends around the Country. Maybe they can start a Girls on the Run group at her school.”

I make notes for myself as we talk. This is why I never come in here without a notebook in hand.

“Great. Let me do some additional background work. And you can talk to Miranda, and then we can finalize your response.”

“Okay. What about the Girl Scouts?”

“I don’t know. We hadn’t planned to do a lot of campaigning in Oklahoma, but this could be a reason to visit. What made this letter special?”

“Caroline, the girl who wrote to me, sold cookies to someone from every State in the continental United States. She was hoping that I could present her with her award.”

“Is there a time on that?”

Helen looks over the letter again.

“It doesn’t say.”

“Okay, I’ll see if I can get some more information. If we can’t arrange a visit we can at least send a certificate, and you could make a congratulatory phone call.”

“Alright, that sounds fine.”

“And while we are on the subject of special requests, we’ve had a request for you to travel to Madison, Wisconsin.”

Helen’s eyes light up and she laughs a little. “I’m not surprised! I told Matt that those two were looking pretty cozy up there on the roof.”

I’m relieved that they’ve talked about it and seem okay with the idea of Peter and Carly liking each other, otherwise this had the potential of being awkward.

“So when did Carly present this idea to you?” Helen asks in delight.

“OH! It wasn’t Carly. Peter is the one who asked me, although you make a good point, it could be all her idea.”

“Peter asked you?!?”

“Yesterday. When I picked Lulu up. He was very sweet about it. He’s willing to submit to a family photo op in exchange.”

“He must be in love! Matt will be so impressed that he was moved to action. And relieved too. For a while there Matt was afraid Peter wasn’t going to get over his crush on you.”

“Well I’m happy to pass the baton onto Carly. I may be slightly biased, but she’s a really nice girl. And I think she really likes Peter too.”

“So what’s the plan?”

“Well, I’ve got Amy checking into options for next weekend. We could add the three of you to the President's trip to Chicago and then look for an opportunity for you to zip up to Madison. It’s only a couple hours from there. Or I can check in with my brother, Sean and see if he can bring Carly down to meet you, and she we could all visit a museum.”

“Well, either of those is fine with me. There are a lot of nice museums in Chicago. And it might not feel as much like a date if we’re all together.”

“Yeah, I think if he can hold off on any formal date until after the election it might get less of a reaction. We really don’t need another tabloid scandal if we can avoid it.”

“I agree. Do you think your brother is going to be okay with Peter asking her out?”

“I hope so! I mean, he’s a reasonable guy. But something seems to happen to men when they end up being a girl Dad.”

“True. Matt’s already making noise about Miranda not dating until she’s twenty-five.”

“Josh said Lulu can’t date until she’s 30!”

“Peter is doomed.” Helen moans.

“Well he does have one really nice perk. . . . He comes with built in chaperones.”

“Ha! That’s true. Well, I’ll leave it to you to talk to your brother. Maybe that selling point will help.”

. . . . .

Back in my office, I’m tempted to wait until I’m at home to call Sean. But time is of the essence. While the Secret Service can make impromptu plans happen, they’d like as much notice as possible, and it’s already Tuesday.

Since this is a personal call, I use my cell phone, rather than the White House line. Not that it really matters if there is a record of me calling my brother.

“Moss Insurance Agency. This is Rebecca, how can I help you?”

“Hey Becky, It’s Donna.”

“Hey Donna! How are you? I’m sorry we couldn’t come for the 4th, but Liam’s team was runner up in the Tournament. Liam had 2 homers and 6 RBIs!”

“That’s great! We missed you guys, but we’re glad you let Conor and Carly come with Mom and Dad.”

“Thanks for having them. Carly hasn’t stopped talking about it. She’s going to be devastated if Governor Sullivan wins.”

“Well, the whole country really, but that’s not why I called. Is Sean available? Can you put me on speaker?”

“Yeah, let me transfer it to his office, then I’ll pop in there.”

A few seconds go by before Sean greets me. “Hey Donna. How’re ya doin?”

“I’m good.”

“Okay, I’m here now.” Becky’s voice breaks in.

Great. Now how to bring this up. I guess direct is best.

“So, yeah, obviously Carly had a great time when she was here. She and Peter really hit it off, you know.”

“Yeah . . .” Sean agrees slowly while Becky laughs. I think at least one of them knows where this is going.

“Anyway, next weekend we are going to be in Chicago, and we might make a stop in Wisconsin, do you think Carly could join us on the campaign trail?”

“Are you playing matchmaker with my daughter and Peter Santos?” Sean asks gruffly. “I don’t really want her in the tabloids!”

“Sean!” Becky admonishes him.

“I’m not playing matchmaker, Sean. Peter is a really sweet kid. He doesn’t have a lot of friends and he doesn’t ask for much. He likes Carly and he asked me if I’d see if she can join us, that’s why I’m calling.”

“I think it’s fine.” Becky announces. “You take Liam to baseball. Carly and I can have a girls trip to Chicago. I’d like to see Donna and Lulu.” 

I think she must be talking to Sean, but in the interest of full disclosure I should explain-- “Oh. I don’t know if Lulu will be along. Josh wasn’t scheduled for this trip. But I can probably work it out.”

“Aww. I’d really like to see her. But even if she can’t at least we’d get together.” Becky is quick to answer. “And it’s not like it will be a real date, Sean. I’ll be with them the whole time.”

“I don’t know.” Sean mumbles, but I recognize that tone. It’s the same as my Dad’s right before he caved to my requests.

“It’ll be fine Sean. We knew she had a little crush on Peter. I know you don’t like to think about it, but she is growing up. This is a once in a lifetime chance for a first date. With armed guards present!”

I’m glad Becky’s on our side. I just stay quiet and let her work on her husband.

“Alright.” He finally concedes.

“Great. Becky, I’ll call you later with the details.”

“Okay sounds good. Give Lulu a hug for us. I hope she ends up coming on the trip.”

“Love you both! Talk to you later!”

I wish I could be there when Becky tells Carly that a visit is going to work out. I’d like to see the look on her face. Hopefully, I’ll get to see Helen tell Peter. But it’s probably a good idea to wait until everything is finalized. Geez, I didn’t realize that Fairy Godmothers had to work so hard.


	27. Hope for the Best

“You were right!” Donna informs me exuberantly as soon as I pick up the phone.

“Of course.” I quip back, no idea what she’s talking about. “Specifically?”

“Sullivan just announced Morgan Mitchell as his running mate.”

“Outstanding.” 

Donna doesn’t miss the sarcasm lacing every syllable. “I thought you expected this?” She asks slowly. “You predicted this in January.”

“I know. But it doesn’t mean I wasn’t hoping for a different result. I’m not thrilled by the news.”

“I’m really the first one to tell you? I’m surprised no one on your staff ran in the minute the news broke.”

“When did the news break?”

“They’re still covering it. I called you as soon as I saw the breaking news chyron and Mitchell’s photo.”

“Well, then . . .” I drawl, pausing to see if I can get a rise out of my wife.

“I’m not on _your_ staff.” She reminds me hautely. Even though I can’t see her right now, I know exactly what the little blush on her cheeks looks like, and how her chest heaves with righteous indignation. It’s a lovely sight that I’ll enjoy until my last breath. 

And even though she can’t see me, she knows that I’m smirking to myself right now because she walked right into my trap.

“You’re bad.” She informs me with a light laugh.

“You can punish me after Lulu goes to bed.”

“Count on it.”

While I’m imagining it, I almost miss the next thing she says..

“So you good with that?”

“Oh, yeah.” In fact, I’m wondering if we can get out of here early tonight.

“Josh?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you listening to me or are you imagining what I’m going to do to you tonight?”

“Ummmm. . .”

She laughs again, so I’m not in any real trouble. “Focus.” She instructs me, firmly. Her tone is not really helping my current state of affairs. I’ve come to really like it when she takes charge in the bedroom. 

“Josh. You with me?”

“Yeah. I’m still here.” I force myself back to the moment. 

“Helen and the kids are joining Matt on the Chicago Trip. I’m going with them. Becky and Carly are meeting us there. Do you want to come too?”

“I don’t want to leave Lulu here without one of us.”

“No, I didn’t think you would. Becky is hoping we’ll bring her along.”

“I wasn’t planning on going. But yeah, I can join in. It’ll give me a chance to talk to Amy on the plane. We need to finalize our strategy now that it’s definitely Mitchell.”

“Great. I’ll see if Nicole can join us.”

“Donna . . .” I can’t help but whine a little. It’s the weekend, I don’t want to bring the nanny.

“Josh. You know if we’re with the First Family we’re both going to be working.”

“I know, but if Becky’s going to be around, maybe she could help out.”

“I don’t want to presume. And Lulu doesn’t really know Becky all that well. I think she’d be more comfortable with Nicole there. And I know that you would.”

“What do you mean?”

She sighs loudly enough that I get the sense that she thinks that I’m being obtuse. But I’m really not.

“Nicole knows how we work. She knows when to take over and when to step back. And we never have to think twice before we hand Lulu off to her. Do you think it would be like that with Becky?”

“No.” She has a point. Becky is technically family, but Nicole definitely is. And Donna is right, I can relax when I know she’s got Lulu covered.

“So, I’ll check with Nicole?”

“Yeah.”

. . . . . . 

When I’m done reading the polling data, I look back up. Matt is still studying it, his brow furrowed. I look to Amy and she meets my gaze steadily. One thing I’ll say about her. She really is practically unflappable. 

“This is bad.”

“Yeah.” She agrees flatly.

Of course I expected Sullivan to get a bump in the polls when he announced his pick for vice-president. And I know he’ll get another from his convention. But this bump is a bit bigger than I expected. Pennsylvania within the margin of error?

“What are you thinking?” 

“We need to do something bold. We can’t let them have the news cycle to themselves for two full weeks.” Amy answers, quickly. 

“Like what?” Matt asks.

Amy’s eyes shift my way for a split second, and instantly, I know what she’s going to say.

“Manna from heaven.” I breathe out. Her lips quirk up, confirming my suspicion. I start shaking my head immediately. No way.

“What?” Matt looks confused.

“No way. Amy. We aren’t ceding the state. This is a terrible idea, it would totally bite us in the ass.” 

Amy focuses her attention on me. “We wouldn’t be ceding the State. You won Pennsylvania without him last time. We can do it again.”

That’s when it dawns on Matt what we are talking about.

“You want me to replace Baker on the ticket?” He asks in disbelief.

“No.”

“Yes.”

Amy and I answer him simultaneously.

“Carol Gelsey has done a fantastic job as Undersecretary for Interior. Floridians love her again. She can help us carry the State.”

“She’ll help us carry the State right from where she’s at. Mr. President, taking Baker off the ticket wouldn’t be bold, it would be suicidal. It would give everyone the idea that we were running scared from Morgan Mitchell, and it would invite scrutiny into why we fought so hard for him in the first place.”

“It would shake things up. Give the Press something to write about other than Mitchell and the upcoming conventions.”

“Are we really talking about this?” Matt asks, blandly.

“We talked about it in 2002. Our internal polling showed that Hoynes wasn’t helping us in Texas. We had a day long meeting about who to replace him with.”

“Who were you considering?” Matt looks interested. But I think it’s just his general curiosity into the inner workings of the Bartlet Administration, not a real interest in the possibility. At least I hope.

“Ulysses S. Grant, Admiral Fitzwallace, . . . and Leo.” I get the pang through my chest that I always get whenever I consider Leo and the vice-presidency. He would have been fantastic. I know it in my bones.

There is a moment of silence while we gather ourselves. It’s fitting that four years later, Leo’s memory still requires a measure of respect. Matt eventually breaks the mood.

“Well, obviously, you didn’t replace Hoynes. Although in hindsight it seems like you could have found a legitimate reason if you’d made any sort of an effort.”

His words sting a little. I still feel some level of personal responsibility for the damage wrought by John Hoynes. I helped him get to the second chair, knowing he was more politician than public servant. But I was unaware of the depth of his moral bankruptcy. It makes me want to vomit. Especially now that I have my own family.

“President Bartlet put a stop to it. It was a matter of loyalty. Although, if we had known what Hoynes was up to, I’m sure he’d have reacted differently. But President Bartlet was right. If we’d replaced Hoynes without a really good reason, the American public would have eviscerated us for it. And honestly, I think Hoynes might have mounted a third party challenge. He ended up carrying Texas for us, by the way.”

Amy purses her lips together. I can tell she wants to say more, but she’s holding back. That’s something she’s gotten a little better at. I think she knows that this was a long shot and I’m glad she isn’t willing to die on this hill.

“We keep Baker.” Matt declares. “He’s going to need to spend a lot of time in Pennsylvania.”

Matt cocks his head and looks at Amy to see if she has anything more to say on the subject, but she just gives a little sigh.

“If you’ll look at page 8, the latest education initiative is polling well.”

. . . . . 

“Come on, let’s go.” Peter exclaims, unbuckling his seatbelt and standing up the minute the plane touches down.

Matt’s face breaks out into a grin. He’s delighted to see Peter excited about something. I’m less thrilled. If it were someone else’s niece, I’d be giving him tips on how to woo her, because, let’s face it, I’ve got game. But it’s Carly. And she’s only fourteen. And he’s a boy!

And, thanks to Donna’s wisdom, I know I’m being a little hypocritical and a whole lot patronizing, But I’ve got a daughter, so I think I’m entitled.

“Sit back down, please.” Helen says calmly, but she shoots Matt a quick equally pleased look. I am alone in my concern. 

Peter complies but fidgets until Matt finally stands up. The rest of us follow suit. The First Family doesn’t really have to carry any of their own things. But I’ve got my backpack and Lulu’s over one shoulder as I unbuckle her and pick her up.

It doesn’t have diapers in it anymore, but it’s got a change of clothes, sippy cup, snacks, and the books and toys that keep her occupied when we travel.

I could leave it, and either Nicole or an intern would make sure it got to the hotel, but I’m her Dad. It’s my job to see that she has what she needs. 

It doesn’t take long to arrive at the hotel, where we are ushered through the kitchen to the service elevator. Lulu is leaning over my shoulder waving and blowing kisses to the kitchen staff as we make our way through.

Years ago I’d have lamented the waste of cuteness and wished that my candidate were the one carrying the cute kid through a throng of fans, hopefully with plenty of photographers nearby. But the times, they have changed. I just want to get our families up to our suites so that we can prepare for what comes next.

When we exit the elevator, Xavier, Matt’s body man turns to the right, leading the way towards the First families’ suite, as I steer my family to the left towards our suite at the opposite end of the hallway. Neither of us has reached our goal, when a door pops open.

“Peter!” Carly’s sweet voice calls out.

His head whips around and the grin that breaks across his face in slow motion takes my breath away. The poor kid has it bad.

He starts toward her and she runs to him. He grabs her in a hug and twirls her around, while all the women let out audible sighs.

I guess Peter’s already got moves. That doesn’t give me any warm fuzzy feelings.

He ends the twirling by putting her back on her feet and giving her a chaste kiss on the cheek. Her eyes are shining brightly and she’s all smiles.

And while the very thought of her dating makes my heart stutter and my gut turn, I suppose she could do a lot worse than Peter Santos, where every moment is going to be observed by a plethora of adults and an army of secret service agents.

Most of the staff have lost interest and are making their way into their rooms that line the hallway of the floor we’ve commandeered. But I stand there watching as Peter speaks softly to Carly, who looks back at her mother for permission, then after receiving a nod of approval, takes Peter’s hand and walks with him to the Santos' suite.

I have an incredible urge to follow them, but Donna tugs on my arm lightly.

“Come on, Josh. You aren’t their chaperone.”

I see Nicole’s quick grin before she enters her room, which as usual is right next to ours.

Once we are in our suite Lulu squirms to get down. “Potty, Daddy!” She tells me urgently. So I quickly set her down, and then take the fold-able seat out of her backpack and follow her into the bathroom.

While I get it in place she gets her dress up and her undies down. I plop her on the seat just in time.

“Good job, Lulu. I’m so proud of you.”

As Lulu and I take care of things in the bathroom I can hear Donna unpacking our bags. We don’t have much, because we’ll only be here two days, but Donna likes to hang our dress clothes in the closet. It does keep them much nicer.

“How’s it going in here?” She asks as she bustles in with Lulu’s step stool and the cushy seat that she prefers.

“Almost done, Mama.”

“Good girl.”

Donna put the shampoo and soap in the shower, and then a scented candle on the countertop. I’ve long since given up trying to convince her that we can just use the free hotel toiletries. Using her own makes her happy and making Donna happy makes me happy.

Once Lulu’s hands are washed we join Donna in the living room, just as she takes a big bite of a Snickers bar from the mini-fridge.

“Me too, Mama!” Lulu cries rushing over to her.

“Busted!” I sing as she blushes, caught red-handed. God, she’s sexy.

Lulu climbs into her lap and she and Donna giggle as they finish the chocolate. I want to sear the memory in my mind for all time, so I never forget how sweet they look together, how full my life is right now in this moment.

. . . . . 

Donna was right, of course. I feel much better leaving Lulu in the suite with Nicole. Becky wants to come to the commencement anyway. She’s actually excited about the opportunity to hear President Santos speak.

There may be hope for the world after all.

As we settle into our seats in the back,Carly is pouting next to me. I’m trying not to laugh. She looks so much like Donna sometimes. But then Peter leans back in his chair in the VIP section and makes heart eyes at her and she immediately perks up, all smiles.

Oh good grief! At this rate, I give this secret until the end of the day.

Matt’s speech is fantastic. I recognize the “education is the silver bullet” rhetoric from Sam, not that he wrote the speech, when you get Matt and Sam in a room together, the education speeches just write themselves. That’s probably why we can’t find a speechwriter that either of them really likes.

Listening to Matt’s voice resonate throughout the quad is exactly what I needed. It doesn’t matter who we’re facing. It doesn’t matter what the polls say. I just have to let Santos be Santos and get him in front of a crowd. The rest will take care of itself.

When it’s over Peter endures the family pictures that follow the graduation with the first genuine smiles I’ve seen from him in years, of course it’s because he’s flirting with my niece.

But right now she’s happy, and he’s happy, and happy family photos are worth their weight in gold for the campaign, so I’m going to let it be and hope for the best.


	28. The Mummy Problem

After the press has got its family photo op, Matt and Helen are off to make a joint appearance at a campaign rally for a young woman that’s running to fill the vacancy in the Illinois 5th. It’s not very likely that the seat will flip to the Republicans, but the primary is wide open. Whoever wins now will probably win the seat. And an appearance with the President and First Lady will certainly help her chances. Amy is really excited about this candidate.

She’s a little more progressive than Matt, but she’s got a ton of momentum, and Josh agrees that this appearance will be good for Matt. Not a full endorsement, but it reminds the Progressive Movement that Matt’s still their guy even though he’s had to make some compromises along the way. And for the candidate, an appearance with the President shows she’s a real contender for the seat and should be taken seriously.

From what I’ve read, I really like her. I hope she wins.

We’ve been entrusted with the kids and after we finish changing at the hotel, they launch into a campaign to convince us to experience Chicago’s famous deep dish pizza. Josh tries to talk them into carrying out, but they have their hearts set on a special restaurant. At one point Peter pulls Josh to the side for a serious man to man talk. 

It looks like he’s begging.

But it works, because an hour later, Josh, Becky, Lulu, Miranda, and I are packed into a booth at Giordano’s, while Peter and Carly are at a table for two nearby.

Becky is filling me in on the plans for next month when Conor moves to Georgetown. 

“A Moss family road trip.” I can’t help but groan. I do not have pleasant memories of family road trips, but they are a common occurrence for mid-westerners. 

Becky just laughs, insisting “It’s only 13 hours.”

“Plus stops! And it’s going to be slower pulling a trailer with Conor’s stuff.”

“Yeah, but you know men. It’s like a badge of honor. I bet Josh has done it.”

“No, not really,” Josh breaks in, before giving Lulu another bread stick, “I’m from New England. We don’t really do that. Besides, Harvard was only two and half hours away. And Yale was about 30 minutes from home.”

Becky looks at me a little confused, but then shrugs. “Well, he’s been collecting stuff for his dorm. You know, t.v., mini-fridge, and they are putting a loft up so they can have a couch and table underneath. So we need to pull the trailer, but at least Sean decided to spring for a one way rental.”

“One way fees are crazy.”

“I know but who wants to pull an empty trailer home?”

Josh isn’t really paying much attention to our conversation. He’s actually watching Carly and Peter pretty closely, while keeping Lulu occupied.

“I think they’re fine, Josh.” Becky teases, her eyes sparkling. “But I’ll tell Sean that you watched them like a hawk.”

“I'm kind of surprised he agreed to this.” Josh mutters, running a hand over Lulu’s head protectively.

Becky reaches across the table and pats his arm. “It’s hard, but you do have to let them grow up. Carly is very responsible. We have no reason not to trust her. And Peter’s a nice kid, right? No criminal record or anything?”

“Of course not!”

“Exactly. As far as a first date goes, what parent could want more? They are out for pizza, with chaperones, and then they’re going to the Field Museum of Natural History. It’s a pretty tame date.”

“I guess.” Josh mumbles but I can tell he’s just being obstinate for the sake of it. I’ m going to have to break him of that before Lulu’s a teenager.

. . . . 

When lunch is over, Josh gives me a kiss after he gets Lulu situated in her car seat. “You guys’ll be okay, right?” He asks perfunctorily, but I know that if I said no, he’d ditch the President and come with me instead.

“Yes, we’ll be fine. Helen went back to the hotel to change, She’s going to bring Nicole and meet us at the Field. Plus, we’ve still got our details.”

“Okay. Have fun.”

“We will. But I’m going to have Helen work the rope line a bit. See if we can drum up a little more than just B-roll.”

“The kids?” Josh starts to ask, but cuts himself off. I appreciate that he’s leaving this to me.

“I figure I’d send them in a side door with Becky and the Secret Service before Helen arrives. We already got first family footage, and I’m trying to keep Carly and Lulu off camera.”

I see Josh relax just a bit. So I give him another quick peck on the lips before wiping the lipstick off. “You’d better get going if you want to catch up to Matt and Amy.”

“Yeah, I think she’s got quite a bit of time set aside for meet and greet, so I should be fine. You know how his fans are.”

“Still wearing Santos underwear?”

“I hope not. Even Bram is over that.”

“Alright. Love you. Be safe out there.”

“You too.” He leans in for one more kiss before he closes the door to the SUV.

“You guys sure do kiss a lot.” Miranda announces.

“Me too!” Lulu insists. So I give her a quick peck and ignore Miranda’s observation.

. . . .

As we pull up in front of the Field Museum, I address the troops.

“Okay. Here’s how this is going to happen. I’m going to get out and talk to the Press. Allen is going to drive you around to the side entrance. Secret Service will have cleared the Press but Peter, I want you and Miranda on one side of Carly’s Mom and Carly, I want you on the other side. Miranda, you hold Mrs. Moss’s hand. Carly, you carry Lulu. That way if there is a stray photographer, all they get is a benign shot of the family going in. We really don’t want the Press in on this dating story yet. When we are inside the museum they’ll clear each room before we enter it, so if you want to hold hands when it’s just us, that’s fine.”

“Gee, how romantic.” Peter grumbles.

“It’s okay.” Carly reassures him. “You don’t want reporters on your case, right? And my Dad really doesn’t want my picture in the paper either.”

“Yeah. I don’t need to get on your Dad’s bad side.” Peter agrees a little nervously.

“Okay. Once your Mom arrives and is about to come in, I’ll have Nicole send you two out to meet her. That way we can get some family photos of you in front of the Museum. Just wave and smile. No big deal. Sound okay?”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Peter agrees, and Becky smiles at his Texas manners.

“You good sweet pea?” I ask Miranda. She’s usually more than okay with the press attention.

“Yes, but can I run up and give Mommy a hug?”

“Yes, of course.” The press will eat it up, and Miranda seems to know that. She likes her picture in the paper.

. . . .

My plan goes flawless, until as Helen turns to head up the stairs, a reporter from the back calls out one more question.

“Mrs. Santos! Senator Mitchell made a statement earlier today taking credit for blocking the Nuclear Test Ban treaty during President Bartlet’s second term. Is he the reason why your husband hasn’t tried to pass the treaty and is that something on the agenda if he gets a second term?”

“Senator Mitchell shouldn’t take credit for something he had nothing to do with.” Helen is quick to retort.

Yikes. I don’t like her taking the bait and giving them a sound bite, so I try to step in and cut this off.

“I’m sorry, the children are waiting.”

But the reporter talks over me, shooting off a follow up question before I can steer Helen up the steps. “Mrs. Santos, in a recent poll 82% of Americans were in favor of the treaty. Don’t you think the Administration should try to pass it?”

Helen pauses a moment before answering. “The complexities of a global arms treaty, the technological, the military, the diplomatic nuances, it's staggering. 82% of the people cannot possibly be expected to reach an informed decision. I think this is one best left to the experts.”

Oh my god. She just insulted the intelligence of 82% of the American people. And from the look on her face, I think she knows it. She quickly glances at me for guidance.

“Thank you for your questions, even if they were a little beyond the President’s support for educational opportunities provided by the Field Museum, but we need to get going. The children are excited to go see it for themselves.”

Thank God Nicole saw my signal and sent them out to the porch. As I gesture at the door, Peter and Miranda wave at the crowd, which cheers for them. Helen gives me a grateful smile.

“Thank you everyone.” She agrees before hustling up the stairs.

“Well, I really screwed that up, didn’t I?” she murmurs once we are out of ear-shot.

“Don’t worry about it. We’ll deal with it. Just keep smiling.”

Miranda runs up to Helen, who picks her up and spins her around once before setting her down. Then Miranda takes Helen’s hand and leads her into the building, while chattering excitedly at her about seeing Sue the T-Rex.

It’s a picture perfect moment, and I hope the b-roll will dominate the news cycle instead of the sound bite she just gift wrapped, but I’m not that optimistic. 

Nicole is aware that Lulu is her responsibility right now, so as the group examines Sue, I find a quiet spot so I can call Josh. I’m relieved when he answers right away.

“Everything okay?” He asks in a rush instead of saying hello. I’m sure seeing my call so quickly after we parted ways has him anxious.

“Lulu and I are fine.” I’m quick to assure him.

“What happened?”

“Well, Helen had a little gaffe.”

“How little?”

“Maybe not so little.”

“Donna?”

“A reporter gave her a chance to take a pot shot at Morgan Mitchell and she fell for it.”

“Was it bad?”

“Not really, he just pointed out Mitchell’s statement on the Test Ban Treaty and Helen said he shouldn’t take credit for keeping it from passing. For that I’d say let it lie. Trying to walk it back might just keep it in the news cycle.”

“Sounds about right. I’ll let Matt know just so he’s not blindsided if it comes up. He’s still doing grip and grin right now.”

“There’s something else.”

“What? Didn’t you cut it off after that?”

“I tried but he had a follow up. Pointed out the polling data, that most Americans support the ban. And asked if it would be on the agenda if Matt won a second term.”

“And Helen responded that our platform is fully explained on our website and that she and the kids needed to go inside?” Josh offers hopefully.

“Not exactly.”

He sighs dramatically. “Okay, let’s hear it.”

“She said that 82% of American’s couldn’t really grasp the complexity of the treaty and that it was a subject best left to the experts.”

“Shit.” He exclaims. Then he laughs sardonically. “She’s been talking to Jed. What did you do?”

“I managed to cut it off. I tried to redirect them back to education, talking about the Field, then we got some great footage of Miranda and Peter. Helen knows that she messed up. I don’t think she really meant to insult the public.”

“Well she’s not wrong. But I don’t think we can just hope for the best.”

“No. I don’t think so. I was thinking about releasing a clarification of her remarks, That Mrs. Santos was speaking for herself, that the test ban treaty is not her area of expertise and that she finds it complex? But I need to clear that with her. It makes her sound a little like a dilettante and I don’t want to act prematurely, if the press doesn’t actually run with it.”

“Do you really think they’ll let it slide?”

“No.”

“Me neither, but I like your plan. If we get asked to comment on her statement we’ll walk it back as gently as possible. Thanks for the heads up.”

“Alright. I’d better let you get back to work.”

“You too. Good job, Donna. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

. . . . . . 

“What did King Tut say when he had a nightmare?” Miranda asks Helen, waiting only a microsecond before bursting out-- “I want my mummy!”

“Good one, honey.” Helen responds smiling, but I can tell she’s distracted.

Miranda laughs and skips toward Peter and Carly on the other side of the room to share her joke with them, I’m sure. Becky’s not far behind them, showing Lulu a collection of Cat statues that would give CJ nightmares. I might need to check out the gift shop to see if I can find a replica of Bast.

Helen and I move on to the next sarcophagus. She stands in front of the placard, like she’s reading it while I examine the details of the box. But I can see the wheels turning in her head.

“You called Josh?” She asks softly.

“Yes.”

“It’s going to be that bad?”

“No. It’s a gaffe. You don’t make many of them, and we’ll get over it, but they needed a head’s up.”

“Okay.” She agrees a bit dejectedly. I feel really bad for her. She hates being the weak link. I totally get it.

“Really. It’s fine. While I wouldn’t have put it quite like you did, it’s not that bad to remind the public that Mitchell’s position is at odds with most of the country. And if he wants to take credit for the Senate blocking a measure that most of the country would approve of, well, I’m sure Josh and Amy can spin that to our favor.”

Helen gives me a bit of a smile. “But Pennsylvania . . .”

“Really isn’t that much different than the rest of the country on this. Mitchell got his seat by scaring them over this issue. He barely mentioned it when he ran for reelection. Really he’s just lucky that instead of trying to get his seat back, Tony Marino spent time stumping for us. And Baker is still very popular in Pennsylvania. The PA numbers are going to bounce back.”

She still looks a bit uncertain but I see the spark coming back into her eyes. “Trust me, Helen. It’s going to be fine.”

Helen gives me a quick nod, and I feel pretty confident that I’ve gotten through to her, but I’ll make sure that Amy takes on it easy around her, and that Matt and Josh give her a pep talk tonight. I want her at one hundred percent for tomorrow’s event in Baltimore.

“Where do mummies go swimming?” Miranda sings as she rejoins us. This time she waits to see if we answer.

“I don’t know.” Helen admits.

“The Dead Sea!” Miranda giggles, completely enjoying herself.

“Why couldn’t the mummy answer the phone?” I inquire, joining in the fun.

“She was all tied up!” Miranda replies. “That’s a good one!”

Obviously she prepared for our visit today, immediately launching into another riddle.

“What did one pyramid say to the other?”

“I don’t know.”

“How’s your mummy?!?” 

Miranda and Helen both laugh. And Helen takes Miranda’s hand as we start to move on to the next exhibit.

How’s your mummy? Indeed


	29. A Hard Day's Work

After I finish loading the dishwasher and start it running, I wipe the table off and lob the washcloth into the sink. Donna will be happy when she gets home and sees that the kitchen is clean. Now, if I can get Lulu down for a nap, I can get a couple hours of reading in.

Speaking of Lulu, it’s awfully quiet. My heart gives a little lurch. It’s not usually this quiet when she’s playing with her dollhouse. Normally there is a running commentary of all the activities that the dolls are undertaking.

My heart moves to my throat, when I pop my head in her room and she’s not there. The Daddy doll is standing at the sink, and the Mommy Doll is laying across the room, a testament to the fact that Lulu is less than thrilled at the amount of time Donna’s been gone, but neither the little girl doll or my daughter are in her room.

“Lulu!” I call, quickly making my way down the hall. In the bathroom I find the dolly laying on the floor, and one of the drawers open, but still no Lulu. 

My heart is pounding as I race towards the den, but she's not there. She has to be in the apartment. Chip and Mark would never let her get out the front door.

“Lulu!” I call again, my voice rising frantically as I make my way towards my room. Where is she?

She’s not here either. I’ve looked everywhere. My God. I feel like I’m going to pass out. I have to find her. I push my back against the wall and draw in a shaky breath.

Then I have a moment of clarity. I haven’t looked everywhere. I drop to the floor to look under the bed and happen to glance to my left. That’s when I notice a pair of little feet behind my bathroom door.

Oh thank god. “Lulu! I found you.” I call out in a happy voice that hopefully hides how my heart is racing.

She doesn’t move, so I get up and walk into the bathroom, opening the door carefully so that it doesn’t hit her or pinch her fingers. I peek around the door, but the ‘gotcha!’ I was planning on shouting dies on my lips when I see what she’s done.

She’s drawing a huge mural of scribbles and shapes on the wall.

“LEONORA MOSS LYMAN!” I bellow, stunned to catch her in the act of naughtiness that she was obviously trying to keep me from discovering.

Her eyes, wide as saucers, quickly fill with tears, and her lip pops out into a split second pout before she bursts into sobs.

“Oh no, baby, no. Daddy didn’t mean to yell. Don’t cry. It’s okay.” I scoop her up to comfort her, as the bath crayons fall from her hands. 

The bath crayons that Zoey and Charlie gave her. The bath crayons that Donna hates. The bath crayons that only belong in the bathtub, as we remind her every time we let her use them. The little scamp knew exactly what she was doing. She knew she wasn’t allowed to play with them and she came in here to try to get away with something.

Damn it. I’m going to have to discipline her.

Holding her tightly to me, I rub her back soothingly, as I walk down the hallway to her room. I can almost feel the time out chair mocking me from her closet. I hate that little chair, with its cheery yellow paint.

Donna gives Lulu time-outs like they are going out of style. Plopping her in the chair and setting the little chicken shaped egg timer to two and half minutes with ease.

I usually make myself scarce. I can’t stand to see my bundle of joy sitting there contemplating her misdeeds. 

And the fact that we have a special chair and timer. Like we figured she’d be a juvenile delinquent and planned ahead for it! It just irks me.

But I made my case to Donna for getting rid of them and she just laughed at me and told me I was overthinking it. At least she agreed to keep the chair in the closet, out of sight.

But she’s not here now. And as much as I’d like to let this slide, I know I can’t. This isn’t a close call. Lulu’s smart. She knows what she did was wrong. She needs to have consequences. And she needs to know that Donna isn’t the only one who will deliver them.

Man, this sucks.

At least she’s not crying anymore.

Leaving the time-out chair in the closet, I sit down in the oversized rocker with Lulu in my lap. She keeps her head buried in my shoulder and sighs deeply.

I know if I keep rubbing her back, and if I sang to her even just a little, she’d fall asleep. But if I do that, I’m not doing my job. Like Donna keeps telling me, parenting isn’t always fun and games and I can’t expect her to do all the hard parts.

So I pull Lulu off my shoulder and look her in directly in the eyes.

“Lulu. What did you do?”

Her eyes drop from mine. Oh yeah, she knows she was naughty.

“Lulu?” I’m trying to keep my voice light. This isn’t an interrogation. I don’t want her to be scared of me. But we need to talk about this. She needs to know why she’s being punished.

“I drew the picture.”

“Where did you draw the picture?”

“Ondawall.”

“Are you allowed to draw on the wall?”

“I sowwy.” She offers quickly rather than admitting that she knows she’s not allowed to draw on the wall. It works. My heart melts. I don’t know how I’m going to do what I’m supposed to do.

“I know you are,sweetie. I love you.” I give Lulu a quick hug to reassure both of us. “But . . . you do the crime, you do the time.”

I stand up, still holding her in one arm, and open the closet door. Lulu’s bottom lip juts out as I place the little yellow chair in the middle of the room and set her down in it.

“You need to sit here for two minutes and think about making better choices next time.” I inform her using my best Donna impersonation.

I set the time for two minutes but I refuse to add the 30 seconds like Donna would. The rule is one minute per year. She’s not three yet and I’m not counting fractions.

Then I leave the room.

That’s the hardest part. I want to stay in there and talk her through it. Make sure she’s okay and that she knows I still love her.

But Donna says that it’s hard to think when someone is talking at you non-stop about something and that a few minutes of quiet reflection won’t hurt her.

Still, I stand just outside her doorway in case she starts to cry again or calls out for me.

But she doesn’t. She sits there good as gold, whispering to herself, “only in the tub, only in the tub.”

When the timer buzzes, she jumps out of the chair and runs to me.

“All done, Daddy! I good!”

“Yes, you are, angel! Now, let’s clean up the picture before Mommy sees it, okay?”

“Okay!” She agrees easily, which just reinforces my judgment that she understands it was wrong. If she didn’t, she’d want Donna to see it.

I grab a bowl of hot water and two washcloths and we march into the bathroom. We each take a washcloth and Lulu copies me as I start to scrub.

_ “Clean up, clean up, everybody, everywhere, clean up, clean up, everybody do your share.”  _ She sings one of the songs Nicole taught her as she works, and luckily within a couple minutes the wall is completely devoid of any evidence.

“Good job, baby girl. Let’s go read some stories, okay?”

“Okay, Daddy!”

She takes my hand and skips down the hall. Happy as can be. I’m having a little whiplash from all of this, but she seems to be taking it in stride.

Lulu grabs “I’ll Love You Forever” by Robert Munsch off the bookshelf. How the hell am I supposed to read that without crying right now?

But when she hands it to me and climbs into my lap to snuggle into my arms, there’s no way I’d ever say no.

I’m proud of myself for making it to the last page in one piece, but my voice cracks a little at the end.

_ “I’ll love you forever. I’ll like you for always. As long as I’m living, my baby you’ll be.” _

Lulu’s eyes flutter back open and she gives me a little smile, so I sing the last verse again looking right into her eyes. I hope she never forgets this moment, even if she can’t remember it.

Her eyes close again. So I sit for a few moments, never wanting this to end. But life doesn’t allow for that, and it’s better if she gets a real nap in her bed, so I stand up and lay her down in the crib.

But now I’m in no mood to read briefing books about mundane topics. There is something I need to do. And now is a good time to do it.

. . . . 

Once I have the camera all set up, I sit down in the chair in my bedroom and stare into the lens.

The red light is mocking me. But eventually I pull myself together enough to start speaking.

“So, um, I thought it was a good time for another one of these little talks. Your Mom’s out on the campaign trail today, so it’s just you and me and you’re taking a nap right now.

Whenever I make these videos it makes your Mom cry. She doesn’t like thinking about that fact that someday I’ll be gone and this will be all you have left. I admit, it is kinda morbid. And I don’t like making her cry. I hope that we have a long, long time together, and you’ll be an adult long before you ever see these, but I still worry sometimes, and I want to give you everything I possibly can. So this is the compromise, I make these tapes when your Mom is out of town so she doesn’t have to think about it.

Speaking of crying. I made you cry today. I had to discipline you and you cried. God, it was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. Don’t do it again, okay? Just be my perfect little angel and never do anything wrong.

I’m sorry. I shouldn’t say that. Hopefully by the time you see this you’ll be able to laugh and I won’t have given you a complex. Maybe I should just erase that part later.

Anyway, you drew on the walls with crayons. And from the devilish look in your eyes and the fact that you did it behind the door, I’m pretty sure you knew it was wrong. I don’t know if you were testing me or what. The parenting books say it’s pretty common around two or three for children to test the waters. To see if their parents will set boundaries and enforce them. To see if they’ll still love them if they aren’t perfect.

Well, you’re perfect to me Lulu. But you’re still a human being. You’re going to make mistakes. You’re going to have regrets. You’re going to make choices that end up not being the best ones. But no matter what, I'm going to love you. I don’t want you to ever wonder about that. So I’m going to tell you all the time. By the time you’re a teenager, you’re going to be sick of hearing it. But I’m still gonna tell you. Probably in front of your friends.”

I pause a little and take a deep breath.

“I love you Lulu. I love you so incredibly much. And Donna, I love you too. I wish I could be with you both right now.”

I have to turn off the tape for a minute. I don’t want them to see me all sad and broken down. If they ever need these tapes because I’m not with them, I want it to be something that makes them feel better, not worse. And I definitely don’t want them to see me crying.

. . . . . . 

“I see it, Daddy!” Lulu demands, when my phone bings and I pull it out to look at the text. 

“It’s from Mommy. She’ll be here in about 45 minutes.” I show her the text, even though she can’t read it.

“Yay!!!” She responds after looking at it carefully.

“Most definitely, yay!!” I agree. “Do you want to help me start dinner?”

“Uh huh.”

“Was that a yes?”

“Yes, Daddy. I help.”

“Great!” 

Lulu runs into the kitchen and then pushes a chair to the sink. She’s helped enough, she knows what comes first.

“Wash your hands!” She instructs me in a voice so much like Donna’s I can’t help but grin. I’m pretty used to being bossed around by the women in my life.

When we’re done with that, I pick Lulu up under the arms and move her and the chair back to the table. It would completely defeat the purpose to let her touch the chair now that her hands are clean.

“Stay put.” I tell her as I gather supplies and quickly rewash my hands. She’s very obedient, and it only takes a minute to set her up with a bowl and a head of lettuce to pull apart for a salad.

While she’s busy doing that, I turn the oven on to preheat and pull a box of garlic toast out of the freezer. For her next job, she can place them on a tray.

When the oven lets me know it’s ready, I slide the lasagna in. I’m glad I remembered to take it out of the freezer this morning. We’ve eaten enough take out this past week. I think Donna will be really glad to have a homemade meal.

_ “I’m a helper, I’m a helper, yes I am, yes I am. I can help make dinner. I can help make dinner. So can you. So can you.” _

Lulu serenades me while we work and then encourages me to sing along. By the time all the veggies are chopped for the salad and everything is ready to go, I’m pretty sick of the song but she’s still going strong. Still, after the trouble earlier, I’m just glad we’re both in a good mood, I don’t want it it end.

So I grab a brownie mix and another bowl.

Lulu does a great job greasing the pan while I stir the eggs, water, and oil into the mix. Then she helps me scoop it out of the bowl and smooth it out. Then we sprinkle some mini m&ms on top. I set the pan off to the side so that it can go in as soon as dinner’s done. We can celebrate Donna’s return with brownie sundaes.

The kitchen is kind of a mess again and so is Lulu. This adulting thing is never ending!

Lulu notices the brownie batter on her fingers about the same time I do and is about to lick them off.

“Ew. Let’s wash your hands, sweetie. It’s not really safe to eat that.”

Once her hands are clean, I hand her a washcloth and let her go at the table while I get the mixing bowl and cutting board into the sink. They can wait until after dinner to get washed.

I’m picking up the last of the stray veggies from the floor when I hear the front door open and Donna wishing the agents a good night.

“Mommy’s home!” I exclaim.

Lulu’s face lights up and she slides off the chair. “Mama! Mama!”

We both run into the living room where Donna is setting down her briefcase. 

“Hey you guys! I’m glad to be home. Did you have a good day?”


	30. Unconventional Wisdom

“Mama! Mama!”

“Hey you guys! Did you have a good day?” I’ve barely set my briefcase down when Lulu barrels into me. I grab her under the arms and swing her up, holding her close as she buries her face into my neck.

Maybe I’m projecting but she seems a little clingier than usual, even after a two day trip. A pang of guilt lances me. But I push it away. I may be travelling more than normal but this is a short season in life. I can’t take her on every trip, and she went to Chicago just last weekend. I’m sure I’m just overreacting.

Josh gives Lulu and me a minute. Standing and watching us with an unfathomable look on his face. I’m getting the sense I’m missing something. But when I ask him without words, he just shrugs.

Then he wraps his arms around both of us at once and squeezes tight. Lulu laughs. She loves it when he does this, and so do I. I feel like I have everything I ever wanted in the world.

“Dinner’s ready.” Josh informs me. “I thought you’d be ready for a home cooked meal.”

“Absolutely! It smells fantastic.”

“I helped!” Lulu shouts, pointing to herself emphatically.

“I”m so glad you were here to help Daddy. You’re such a good girl, Lulu.”

“Yes! I good!” Lulu insists. “Right, Daddy?”

“Yes, baby. You’re a good girl.” Josh reassures her. But I catch a hint of something in his voice, and his eyes look troubled.

I’m having a definite sense that I’m missing out on something. But I’m hungry and Josh has gone through a lot of trouble to make this a good welcome home. I trust him. If he’s holding something back, I’m sure there’s a reason and he’ll tell me when he’s ready.

And if not, I have ways of making him talk.

. . . . . 

Josh’s dinner was fantastic. And he cleaned up while I took care of Lulu’s bath. And she didn’t even ask for the stupid crayons. And She was especially snuggly while I was reading A Little Princess. It’s been a good night. And now it’s grown-up time.

I give Josh a come hither look as I pass through the kitchen into our bedroom. And as I’m washing my face I hear him enter our room and settle into the chair to wait for me.

“So, um, I have a confession.” He calls out.

“Yeah?” I respond as nonchalantly as possible. I knew something was up.

“I gave Lulu a time-out because she drew on the bathroom wall.”

“She did?!?”

“Yeah.”

“So you gave her a time out?!?” 

I poke my head back out of the bathroom and look at Josh. His eyes are downcast and he’s twisting the ring on his left hand. Admitting that our daughter wasn’t perfect while I was gone was not easy for him.

“Yes. You would have!” He declares, vehemently as he looks up. But there’s a vulnerability on his face that he doesn’t show that often, and it occurs to me that he’s looking for my approval. 

“Yes. Absolutely, Josh.” I reassure him. “ She drew on the wall. She knows better than that.” The relief on his face is immediate. I think nothing would hurt him more than thinking that he punished Lulu when he shouldn’t have. 

It’s moments like this that I know I couldn’t have picked a better partner. There is no one else I’d rather parent with. But I probably don’t really tell Josh that enough. Sometimes I forget that his ego is all just for show and that he needs a little stroking. I give him my softest smile, the one that I’ve always used to show him how much I believe in him.

“I’m really proud of you. I know you probably hated doing it.”

“Yes!” He agrees, gesturing wildly, “it was awful. You make it look so easy!”

I burst into laughter and he looks offended for a second, then it dawns on him that he just made me sound like the bad guy. Like some Disney Villain evil Step-mother or something.

“That’s not what I meant.” He offers a little sheepishly.

“I know.” I assure him yet again as I turn off the bathroom light and join him in our room. I wrap my arms around him and give him a quick kiss. “You’re a great dad.”

He holds me for a minute and I feel the tension leaving his body. He was really worried about this. But I hope he’s let it go, because I’ve been gone two days, and I’ve got something else in mind for the evening.

“Lulu’s down for the night?” He inquires softly.

“Yes, she is.” I take a step back and attempt a sultry look. But banter has always been good foreplay for us, so I revert to a little teasing. “There’s a pre-convention special on CNN. Do you want to go watch it?”

“Not right now.” He’s quick to respond, tugging me over to the bed. “We can make fun of the Republicans later. Right now I’d like to do something more entertaining.”

His eyes are practically smoldering so I know exactly what he’s thinking. I’m glad we’re on the same page.

“Really? Something more entertaining than making fun of Republicans? Whatever could you mean?” I bat my eyelashes at him for good measure.

He makes a weird little growl in the back of his throat and in the blink of an eye he morphs from uncertain parent to extremely confident lover. I feel my entire body flush as he pulls me tight, cups the back of my head, and kisses me breathless.

When he comes up for air, he gives me a little smirk. “Any other questions?”

God, I love it when he’s cocky like this. And I’m definitely in the mood to play along. “No . . . sir.”

. . . . .

“Ahhhh. That was so good.” I”m euphoric. He really is incredible. Why in God’s name did we wait so long to partake in this activity? 

Josh is still panting a bit but he’s looking extremely pleased with himself. He grins at me. “Who da man?”

“You are. Definitely you.” 

Rolling over to my side, I scoot a little closer and run my hand down his arm causing goosebumps to pop up and the little hairs to stand on end. I’m pleased to see that while he may be ‘da man’, I’m not without my own powers.

I love touching him. 

And I love what my touching does to him.

His eyes are closed as I continue my journey, caressing his pecs and moving down his abdomen. He’s got some great ab muscles tucked away under a little bit of a tummy. I like it. It means he’s eating a lot better than he used to. And his body being less that perfect makes me feel better about mine.

I let my hand wander a little lower, watching his face as his eyelids flutter.

He grimaces just a little. “It’s a little quick, Donna, I don’t know if I’m going to be able to . . .” 

“Shhhh… I’m just exploring.”

My hand continues south and I give him a tentative stroke. He breathes in sharply through his nose. He’s still sensitive. Good. I like playing with him when we aren’t rushed.

I take my time, showing him exactly how much I missed him, and he rises to the occasion, just like I knew he would.

When round two is over, Josh wraps his arms around me and passes out cold. 

. . . . .

Monday flies by. Even with Ashley holding down the fort it always feels like there’s so many things to catch up on after a few days on the road. Plus we’re still coordinating with Amy and the DNC about all the ways they want to use Helen and how many times she’ll let them showcase the kids. We’ve still got two weeks, but it’s getting to be crunch time. Decisions need to be made.

Tuesday we spend the morning looking at damage reports about Issac. Everyone agrees that Matt can get away with making a quick trip to Louisiana to offer some aid and comfort without it looking like a media ploy. Of course, no one is happy about the property damage and loss of life, but during a campaign every opportunity to be Presidential is important. And even better, everyone agrees that Bram and Ned can staff the trip.

I’m happy to be home for our regular routine.

. . . . 

“I can’t believe they had to postpone their convention due to a Hurricane!” Josh crows as he settles into the couch next to me. “Shouldn’t they take that as, I don’t know, a sign from God that they should just give up altogether?”

“Fat chance.”

“I can hope. So what did I miss?”

“The Pledge of Allegiance and an opening invocation. I think you and Lulu could have stayed in the room.”

“No way. She can watch with us when she’s old enough to make fun of them. She’s still too young and impressionable right now. I don’t want her getting any Republican juice on her.”

“You let her spend time with Auntie Ainsley.”

“That’s because she’s rational! Sometimes I forget she’s a Republican. Speaking of which, why didn’t she go to their convention?”

“They talked about it. Her parents are going. Earle is actually a delegate. But Ainsley’s kind of a person non-grata in the party right now. They wanted her to speak, but they would only give her a slot if she gave a full throated endorsement for the ticket. And I believe Sam’s exact words were “not a chance in hell.”

“Wow. I bet that didn’t go over well.”

“Yeah. Ainsley was pretty pissed, but actually, she wasn’t mad at Sam. She wanted to speak on the issues and didn’t appreciate having words put in her mouth. Honestly, I think she’s thinking about leaving the party.”

“Ha! I knew we’d convert her eventually.”

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far. But she feels like the Republican party is heading towards a dark place and moderates are getting pushed out. She’s considering registering as an Independent.”

“Good. Because someday, Sam is going to run for something, and it would be really helpful if his wife didn’t belong to the other party.”

We watch in silence for a few minutes before I take his hand and look him in the eyes.

“Would you still love me if I was a Republican?” I ask sweetly, while the Governor from Oklahoma drones on about how America needs to reclaim her heritage as a nation under God.

“What the hell kind of question is that?” He sputters, his eyes bugging out of his head. It’s kind of fun to spin him up sometimes.

I just raise an eyebrow. “I was expecting a quick yes.” I inform him with a frosty stare.

“Yes.”

“Too late.”

“Donnnaaa . . .” He whines adorably, caught between a rock and a hard place.

“Jooossshhh.”

We stare at each other a few moments while the rambling continues on the television. Finally he takes a deep breath.

“I’ve loved you for more than a decade. I fell in love with you because of your wit, and your smile, and your indomitable spirit. And honestly, with the way you challenged me, sometimes I thought maybe you WERE a closet Republican. God knows you dated enough of them. I will always love you. Even if you became a Republican.”

I give him a bright smile. See that wasn’t so hard.

“I would, however, lock you in a closet on election day.”

“Josh! That’s voter suppression!”

“Hey if you become a Republican, doesn’t that mean that I become the head of the household and you have to do what I say anyway?”

“Fat chance.”

“Yeah. That’s what I thought.” Josh tugs me a little closer so that I’m draped over him a little more and we have to readjust our positions to get comfortable. I end up in my favorite spot with my head against his chest, and he starts playing with my hair. It feels nice.

“Your hair’s getting longer.” He murmurs.

“I know. I haven’t had time to do anything with it. Should I get it cut?”

“I like it like this.” He runs his fingers through the length. “But it’s up to you.”

The gentle rhythm of his hand almost has me asleep when I’m startled awake by Josh’s shout. 

“That’s our slogan!”

I open my eyes in time to see the chyron declaring the theme of the convention _ Sullivan/Morgan For a Brighter Future _ .

“Not really.” I answer through a yawn sitting up.

“Yes it is,” Josh insists. “Four Years Ago  _ Santos/McGarry For a Brighter America _ .”

“I don’t know.

“It’s pretty damn close.” 

“Well I wouldn’t use it, but I don’t know if you could convince the press that there’s a story there.”

“See. You couldn’t be a Republican. You’re not a plagiarist.”

“And I’m also done watching this. You coming to bed?”

“Let’s see . . . going to bed with my smokin’ hot wife, or watching the Republicans plot to destroy our future? It’s really no contest.”

“Well, I hope not.”


	31. Conventional Expectations

“Good TV.” Amy announces as we stand in the empty convention center, taking in the ambiance before the circus starts. “That’s all we’re looking for.”

Donna gives her an inscrutable look. “I don’t know, after four years ago, I think we might be better served to show boring, stable leadership.”

“Stable leadership with flashy graphics, colorful imagery, and upbeat music.” Amy insists.

This time Donna nods in agreement. “Yeah,okay.”

It’s not like they are having a real debate. The schedule is set. And while they both had plenty of input. Neither of them is really in charge of this show tonight. Truthfully, at this point we’re mostly here for moral support. And because we want to be.

We’re all quiet for a moment. Just taking it in. There really is something magical about turning an empty stadium into the center of democracy in action. The state delegation signs are on the floor. Bunting hangs from the rails. And high above us in the rafters, there will be balloons ready to fall at our final moment.

A couple k-9 units patrol the stands, working both sides of the auditorium to assure our safety. A huge stage flanked by flags dominates one end. Even though we aren’t in the same city, I can’t help but remember Leo standing there, hand in hand with Matt, arms raised, accepting his party’s nomination for the vice-Presidency.

We won’t have the same drama at this convention, but I truly hope that it still gives everyone goosebumps. That we can inspire them to do more. To actively engage. As Jed likes to say, “Decisions are made by those who show up.”

And speaking of showing up, we should get back to our jobs. The venue is ready for sound checks.

. . . . . 

The Santos suite is surprisingly quiet when we get back to it. Matt and Helen are sitting on the couch sipping coffee, chatting with both our mothers. It’s surreal.

“Where are the kids?” Donna asks in surprise.

“Hello, Donna. It’s nice to see you too.” Her mother chides her lack of greeting.

“Hi Mom. Where’s Lulu?” She repeats, this time looking at my Mom. After all, when we last left her, she had our daughter.

“All the kids are down in the Ziegler suite.” Helen informs us. “Peter wanted to hook up with Carly as soon as they arrived.”

“Don’t say hook up.” Matt murmurs, receiving a glare from Helen as she continues her explanation.

“And Miranda was already hanging out with Molly.”

“ Lulu wanted to go too,” Lottie informs us, “so your Dad went with them.”

“Oh, okay.” Donna accepts this answer and moves toward the buffet against the wall in search of coffee, but I’m intrigued.

“Dad’s hanging out with Toby? And they’ve got all the kids? This I’ve got to see. What room are they in?”

“1510”

“I’ll be right back.”

It’s easy to spot which room is Toby’s because Chip and Linda are standing guard outside the door. 

“How ya doin’?” I ask him as I rap on the door.

“There’s a lot of squealing, but I’ve been assured that everything is fine in there.” He informs me without guile. He may be young but he takes his job very seriously. I have no doubt that he’d protect Lulu with his life.

Toby is rubbing his temple when he answers the door. The screeching behind him is piercing.

“What the hell?”

“Welcome to the Hilton House of Horror.” Toby answers dryly as he motions for me to enter.

“Hi Uncle Josh!” Carly shouts, running to me and giving me a quick hug. “Peter and I are winning!”

“It’s not fair! They’re bigger.” Miranda insists just before letting a bean bag fly.

“What are you doing?”

“Corn hole!” Peter announces, “Carly brought me these as a present!” He points to the raised boards at either end of the room decorated like American Flags.

“That was nice.” And unsurprising, given that corn hole is practically a professional sport in the Midwest. I’m getting quite good at it.

“Look what Peter gave me!” Carly responds, holding up a laminated pass on a lanyard hanging around her neck.

The grin on her face is so much like Donna’s, I’m transported back a dozen years, reminded of her reaction to the first thing I ever gave her. What goes around really comes around.

“Hi Daddy, Hi!” Lulu shouts from the couch where she’s sitting with Huck.

“Hi sweetheart. Hey Jim.” I greet my father-in-law, who is sitting in a chair at the table. There’s a cup of coffee in front of him and one across from him. Toby reclaims that seat and it occurs to me that he and Jim were having a conversation before I arrived. I wonder how that was going.

“Hi Josh.”

“Is Andy around?” I ask Toby, still unsure if he’s really in charge of this mad house.

“She went down for a sound check. She’s speaking tonight.”

“Yes she is. Did you write her speech?”

He gives me a look that says “what do you think?” But I don’t know what to think. Toby and Andy’s relationship is still inexplicable. They get along and they are fond of each other, but they don’t seem to be in a romantic relationship. When Toby visits the kids he keeps his things in the guest room, but he’s hinted that he occasionally joins Andy in her bed, depending on if she’s seeing anyone. It’s odd.

So I just shrug at him.

“She mostly wrote it herself, with input from her staff. I was allowed to give it a little polish.” He finally offers. “It’s good.”

“I’m sure. You gonna come down and watch tomorrow?”

“Nah. The Press pretty much leaves me alone, but I really don’t like to tempt the thing. And given how close the convention is to the anniversary of the story, I’ll take a pass on this one and watch it on TV from here.”

“But what about the Twins?”

“Andy’s Chief of Staff is here. She’ll take the kids down to watch from backstage.”

“Okay. Well, speaking of sound checks. I’d better get back to work.” I stand up, bringing Lulu with me. “Hey Jim, do you want to head back with me?”

“I’m staying to keep my eye on those two.” He announces with a gesture toward Peter and Carly. Peter looks up with a sad expression on his face, and I suddenly feel guilty. I’ve been struggling with how protective to be of Carly, and I haven’t given enough thought to Peter. He’s a great kid. He’s never caused an ounce of trouble. Even as he struggled with depression and bullying at school, he always treated everyone else with kindness. Treating him like he’s the bad guy just because he’s a boy interested in a girl really isn’t fair.

“They’ll be fine. They’re great kids. They don’t need a babysitter.”

“And I’m, like, right here.” Toby points out.

Jim looks unimpressed at Toby’s offer of supervision but contemplates the suggestion. Finally he relents. “Okay, but you two stay here. Call me when you are ready to go. And don’t outstay your welcome. Remember this is Mr. Ziegler’s room.

“Okay Grandpa!” Carly beams.

“Yes, sir.” Peter agrees softly and I see Jim relax a little. I think he really does appreciate good manners. If he really had a chance to get to know the Santoses, I think he’d be pleasantly surprised to learn that their moral convictions are very similar to his own. 

. . . . . 

The first day of the convention is devoted to council and caucus meetings. While those go on, we host a revolving door of party leaders in the Presidential suite. It’s a never ending stream of coffee and pastries only broken up by a longer lunch meeting with Vice-President Baker and his wife.

Donna and I are thrilled to be able to step out for that. It’s not that I don’t like the Bakers, it’s just that my track record with vice-presidents isn’t so great. 

Baker is a consummate politician. I still find it a little unbelievable that he begged off from running when everyone thought it was his turn, tried to execute a sneak attack for the nomination, and still ended up as VP at the end of the day. But at the end of the day, he’s done a good job for us. He runs the plays that we call without complaint and he’s generally well liked within the party. I fully expect that he’ll be the heavy favorite for our nomination in four years. I just hope that no one expects me to run it.

Our suite is dark and quiet when we slip inside.

“What?” I look at Donna for answers. “Where is everyone?”

“I told you. Our parents took the kids to the Minnesota Children’s Museum with Toby and the Twins.”

“So we’re here alone?”

“Yes.” She grins at me suggestively.

“All by ourselves?”

“That is the definition of alone.”

“How long do we have?”

“About a half hour.”

“I can work with that.”

. . . . . . 

Lulu passes out a few minutes after 8 o’clock and I’m able to transfer her into the portable crib in the corner of Mom’s room in our suite. I’m pretty sure that Mom insisted on sharing her room with Lulu just so we could work on making another grandchild, but hey, I don’t have a problem with that.

When I come back into the living room, Donna and our parents have just settled down to watch the pre-show. I’d sort of like to be a fly on the wall and watch how Donna’s Republican parents and my die-hard Democratic mother interact for the next 3 days but not as much as I want to go downstairs and watch the speeches live. Plus I know that my Mom can hold her own. She may seem like a sweet, soft-spoken old lady, but under that facade is the powerhouse who volunteered at every level of politics for the last five decades. There’s a reason I went into politics, and it wasn’t my Dad.

“I’m going to head downstairs. You coming?” I ask rhetorically as I offer Donna my hand. 

She takes it and stands up, then smooths out her skirt. “You guys are good with Lulu?” She asks her parents as she takes her suit jacket off the back of a chair.

“Yes, that’s why we’re all here.” Mom answers her, while Lottie nods.

“We’ll stay here for a while and watch the convention with Sylvia.” Lottie responds. “Then we’ll just be next door if you need us.”

“Okay, thanks.”

I grab our backstage passes and slip Donna’s over her head. She grins brightly at me, so I give her a quick kiss. God, I love her so much. I can't wait to do this convention with her. It’s going to be so much better than the two times we nominated Jed and I was trying to keep myself from falling head over heels in love with her. And it’s going to be phenomenally better than four years ago when we were battling each other to try to get our guy nominated.

This time I get to walk through the halls with my hand on the small of her back and not pull it away when someone notices. This time I can wrap my arms around her as we listen to Andy give an incredible opening speech that reminds us that our choice is a man who has answered the call to serve our country at every opportunity, a man who has always chosen us, a man who is already our President. Matt Santos.

After Andy, the convention chairperson recites the party platform, and once again I am proud to be a member of the Democratic Party. A party that recognizes our strength lies in our diversity as a people. A party that recognizes that none of us is free until all of us are free. A party that recognizes that healthcare is a human right. A party that wants to move forward, not backward.

My voice is getting hoarse as I scream, yell, and whistle my support through a line up of speakers. My hands are turning red from clapping as loudly as I can. And my wife is standing next to me, matching me cheer for cheer. What a great night.

There’s a small commercial break before Foo Fighters launch into their short set, so Donna and I head upstairs to retrieve the First family. Helen will close out tonight’s activities with her speech. She’s a little nervous so Donna wants to walk down with her and give her moral support.

As soon as we enter the suite, all four of them stand up. They look perfect. Whoever styled them really did a great job. Helen’s in a bright blue suit with a bright white scarf peaking out. Matt is in a perfectly tailored navy suit with a red power tie. Peter matches him but is wearing a vest and red bowtie. And Miranda is in a bright red poofy dress. Picture perfect.

At that moment Carly comes out of the bathroom, smoothing down the skirt of her sheath dress. Oh my god. She looks so grown up. She’s wearing just a touch of lip gloss. I can’t tell if the slight blush on her cheeks is natural or cosmetic as she walks over to Peter and takes his hand. 

Her dress is the same color as Miranda’s. They must have planned it. I wonder if Donna knew? Glancing over at her, I see that she’s biting her lip. I don’t think she was included in this. I wonder if I should say something. When Helen’s speech is over, the family will join her out on the stage, and it looks like they might be planning to include Carly. Do I need to tell them that the National Convention is NOT the right time to introduce Peter’s girlfriend? Even if it wasn’t our niece, and even if I didn’t desperately want to shield her from the press, it just wouldn’t be appropriate.

Still, we’ve got almost an hour before this becomes an issue. For now we just need to get down to the stage, then I can figure out if I need to be the bad guy.

On the way down to the stadium, Donna and I walk at the back of the pack.

“I take it that was a surprise to you?” I whisper to her.

“Yeah. What do I do? I don’t want to talk to Helen about it before the speech and get her rattled, but it will be too late to discuss it after. Do I pull Carly and Peter aside while Helen is speaking and explain to them why Carly can’t join the family on stage? I don’t want to hurt their feelings but it’s really not an option.”

“They’re both bright kids. Hopefully they’ll understand. But let me talk to Matt first. Maybe they’ve already had the discussion.”

“I hope so. But you know how Matt likes to be an unconventional politician. Look at what he put you through in the last campaign!”

I love that she noticed and she’s still a little disgruntled on my behalf.

“He listens to me a little more now. And he’s always had great instincts. Let me talk to him and make sure we’re all on the same page before we talk to Peter and Carly.”

“Okay, thanks.”

Foo Fighters are just starting  _ Miracle _ when we arrive, so the kids all crowd toward the stage to sing along. 

The familiarity of the song seems to be comforting to Helen who is swaying while reviewing her notes.

I grab Matt.

“I need to talk with you for a second.”

“Okay, but I want to kiss Helen before she goes out.”

“Of course. This will only take a second. I just want to let you know that I don’t think it’s a good idea for Carly to join you on stage.”

Matt looks startled, then glances over to the kids. “Ah. The matching dress. Do you think that’s what they are planning?”

“I don’t know. Did you talk to them about it?”

“No. But we have told Carly that we think of her like family. I think she’s really good for Peter. And Helen complimented her on the dress. We thought it was nice that she fit right in.”

“You don’t think they talked to Helen about it?”

“No. She would have said something. And I don’t think she’d approve. Neither of us want the Press to focus on Peter.”

“Right. I’ll talk to Peter and Carly while Helen is speaking. I think they are fine back here and at the hotel, only credentialed press will see them and they’ll respect your edict about authorized photos only. But if Carly goes on stage that would be an authorized photo. And then even if the mainstream press didn’t cover it right now, the tabloids would start hounding them. And I know that Donna’s brother would not be happy about that.”

“Neither would I.”

“Go, kiss your wife. I’ve got this.”

Matt motions to the kids and all three of them join him, giving Helen a little bit of encouragement and hugs before she’s announced and walks out onto the stage.

“Thank you, thank you everyone.” She greets the crowd as the cheering settles down. “I’m so happy to be with you tonight. Four years ago, we stood on this stage and promised that if you elected my husband we would work every day to create a brighter America, and I’m pleased to say, that we’ve done our best, and that we’ve accomplished many of our goals, but we’re not done yet!”

As another round of applause fills the venue, I tap Peter on the shoulder. “Hey, Bonnie and Clyde- I need to talk to you.”


	32. Unconventional Friendships

As Josh leads Peter and Carly to a quiet corner, I look towards Matt uncertain if I should stay or join them. He gives me a little head tilt in the direction of their backs, so I follow the three of them.

“Alright.” Josh begins a little sternly, “Let’s just make sure we’re all on the same page here. Am I incorrect in my assumption that you two plan for Carly to join the family on stage in, oh,” he glances at his watch, “approximately 23 minutes?”

The twin blushes on their cheeks pretty much answers the question but they look at each other guiltily, silently determining whether or not to confess. If I wasn’t stressed about their answer, I’d find their attempt at telepathic communication adorable.

“Look,” I jump in, “we love you both. And we are thrilled that you enjoy each other’s company. But this is not the time or place to make any sort of grandiose announcement to the rest of the world.”

“But I love her!” Peter declares passionately while Carly beams at him. “I want everyone to know!”

Josh actually groans out loud while Carly bursts out “And I love him too, Aunt Donna!”

Josh’s eyes look like they are going to pop out of their sockets as his head whips around to see if Matt just overheard the kids, but the applause from the convention floor have kept their proclamations concealed.

:That’s very sweet, really.” I tell them sincerely. I’m not at all immune to the romance of young love, but I’m also a professional here. And their plan is simply not going to come to fruition. Not on my watch.

“Okay, I’m going to treat the two of you like the mature young adults that I know you are, okay?”

Both kids nod enthusiastically, thinking they’ve found a willing accomplice. They are in for a shock.

“Here’s the thing.” I look directly at Carly. “If you go out on that stage, the family picture is going to be in tomorrow’s paper. Front page. You with your hand in Peter’s. Maybe his arm wrapped around you. You’ll both be smiling and feeling good. It’ll probably have your name in the caption. And that sounds absolutely lovely, doesn’t it?”

Again, they both nod eagerly.

“But then, day after tomorrow, at least one, but more likely four or five tabloids are going to have your picture on the cover. They're going to comb through your social media or your friends social media, and they're going to find the worst pictures. You with your mouth full of food, or having a bad hair day, or making a grumpy face at one of your brothers. And they’re going to make up stories about who you are, and how you met, and exactly what’s been happening when you’ve slept over at the White House.”

“I don’t care.” Carly says defiantly, so I turn to Peter.

“You know what that’s like. When there are fake stories about you. Doesn’t feel good, does it?”

He shakes his head no. 

“Do you want her to go through that?”

“No.” He answers softly.

“And worse than that. What if some sicko decides she’s not good enough for you and decides to remove her from the picture? And you both know I don’t mean figuratively. If she ends up in the spotlight, her life could literally be in danger. Do you guys remember what happened with Lulu?”

I glance back over at Carly, who has turned a little pale.

“And even if there aren’t any threats, how do you think your Dad is going to react if your picture is in the tabloids? You think he’s going to keep letting you make these trips to see Peter?”

Carly shakes her head no. The realization that this is a bad idea finally setting in.

“That’s right. He won’t. I don’t like being the bad guy, but I love the two of you too much to let you go out there together, okay?”

“Okay, Aunt Donna.” Carly agrees, pouting just a little.

“Okay, why don’t you guys go listen to the rest of the speech.”

Peter wraps his arm around Carly and they rejoin Matt and Miranda in front of a monitor. Matt ruffles Peter’s hair, then Carly quickly fixes it for him.

“Wow.” Josh breathes out. “You are so good at that! You’re like a political Wonder Woman and Super Mom all rolled into one.”

I give him a little smirk. “You want to jump me right now, don’t you.”

“When don’t I?” he quips back, giving my ass a light pinch.

“Hey!”

He just grins at me unapologetically.

When the speech is over, Carly stands back stage with us watching the excitement a little dejectedly. I really hope that she’s not confusing her feelings about the excitement of the campaign with her feelings for how much she likes Peter. She’s young, and the chance of this lasting very long is pretty slim, especially under these circumstances, but I’d really hate to see either of them get hurt.

“I know you’re right Aunt Donna.” She says after a few minutes. “And I wish I could be out there, but I don’t want to risk my Dad not letting me see Peter anymore. He’s a really special guy. He’s not like any of the boys that go to my school. And I do whatever it takes to be able to keep seeing him, even if it means we can only be friends until we’re older.”

Well, maybe there’s some hope for them. Once again Carly impresses me. I know what it’s like to be the youngest that no one takes seriously. I don’t want to treat her like she’s not smart enough and capable enough to handle some big stuff. 

“It won’t be like this forever. In a few years you’ll be older and Peter dating won’t draw quite as much attention, and your parents will be more prepared for it.”

Carly gives me a little smile and nods.

“And when they come off stage we’ll make sure that you get some pictures with the family and Peter, as long as you promise me that you won’t post them on social media or send them to any of your friends. These are just for you to keep in your room.”

“Okay.” she agrees happily, the sparkle back in her eyes.

. . . . . . .

There is a tapping on the door precisely at noon. I skip to the door, excited to see my friends. As soon as I open it CJ grabs me in a hug.

“Donna! It’s so good to see you.”

“CJ! I”m so glad you’re here!”

She lets go of me and moves toward Josh.

“Hi Kate.”

“Hey Donna.”

We give each other a quick hug. Kate isn’t as demonstrative as CJ but I’m glad to see her.

As we move into the parlor we discover Josh bear hugging CJ. I think he misses her even more than I do. She’s practically his big sister and he’s never fully gotten over not seeing her every day.

Lulu is dancing around them chanting, “me too! Me too!”

CJ laughs, reaches down and scoops her up for a quick hug and twirl. When she’s done, Lulu looks around the room, then back at CJ.

“Where’s baby Hope?” She demands.

“Sorry sweetheart. Hope’s home with Daddy. This is a solo trip for Auntie CJ.”

“Hope’s not here?” Lulu confirms with a pout, causing CJ to laugh again.

“Oh my god, Donna, she may look just like Josh, but she’s your mini-me!”

“That’s what I keep saying.” Josh quickly agrees but I just shake my head. 

“Oh no! She’s all him!”

Kate laughs at the whole exchange. “Hey Josh.” She greets him with a little head nod, which he quickly returns.

“Hey.” He scoops Lulu back up into his arms. “We’ll leave you ladies to your lunch. It’s naptime for this one.”

“Storytime, Daddy.” Lulu insists, resisting her afternoon rest period as she’s taken to doing lately.

“Yes, baby, we’ll read some stories first.”

He brings her to me for a few butterfly kisses before he takes her into the bedroom. I have no doubt he’ll get her to sleep. He’s the nap master. It’s also entirely likely that he’ll catch 40 winks himself while he’s at it. He might not admit it to anyone else, but he’s discovered the value of a little downtime in the afternoon.

When the door to the bedroom shuts, I usher CJ and Kate over the conference table, where I already have lunch laid out.

“I hope you don’t mind, I pre-ordered lunch so that Josh and Lulu and our parents could eat too. They’ve taken it to their room. We’ve got a salad bar and stuff for sandwiches.”

“This is great, Donna.” CJ assures me. “You know what I like.”

“Can’t go wrong with salad.” Kate agrees. “This is a really nice suite.”

“Thanks. It’s a long way from sharing a room with Maragret during the first Bartlet campaign!”

“I’ll bet.” She agrees, “but you must have some good stories from that!”

“She does but it doesn’t start there, does it, Donna?” CJ chimes in wagging a finger at me. 

“It’s been twelve years CJ! Aren’t I ever going to live this down?”

“What?” Kate asks curiously.

“Have you ever been on a National Campaign before?” CJ questions, then when Kate shakes her head no, CJ launches into the story.

“They can be chaotic. People everywhere. Every place you stop there are new volunteers. It stops registering for a while. And at the end of the day, you’re exhausted beyond belief. At some point someone presses a hotel key into your hand, you grab your suitcase, and you go collapse. There's just not a lot of thought to it. You fall on the nearest bed and get as much sleep as you can before you start again the next day.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” Kate agrees. “At least campaigning for Congress keeps you close to home base.”

I find it interesting that Kate refers to Oregon as home base, but not home. I wonder what that means. She really is a mystery.

“Right.” CJ continues, “I think it was about a week or so before it dawned on me that this one had been around a while, always right beside Josh. She was like a stray puppy that he had decided to keep!” CJ offers with a laugh before continuing. 

“But she had credentials, and she was always put together, so I assumed that she was being taken care of.”

Kate looks at me confused, but I just shrug at her. 

“So imagine my surprise when one night at 2 am, I go back to the bus looking for a memo, only the trip over our stray little puppy, shivering in the aisle under a pitifully small pile of blankets.”

I feel the need to defend myself-- “Believe it or not it was better than the floor in Margaret’s room. She’s a sleepwalker!”

“Anyway, turns out that Josh hadn’t thought any farther than putting his credentials around her neck. He hadn’t told Advance to make sure she had a place to sleep. And his assistant,” she gives me a pointed look, “hadn’t taken care of it either.”

“Hey. I was trying not to give anyone a reason to send me home.”

“Well, by then we’d figured out how useful you were, so there was literally no danger of that. And we were all fond enough of you to want to make sure, you know, you didn’t freeze to death.” She laughs, and after all these years I can join in. It’nice to hear that I wasn’t making a nuisance of myself and that they all wanted to keep me.

“And in Josh’s defense, I had told him I was willing to sleep on the floor when I convinced him to let me join the trip.”

“That may be,” CJ informs me smugly, “But you’re still lucky that I didn't tell him! He’d have had a conniption fit.”

“You told the Governor! I had to endure a lengthy lecture about the stupidity of sleeping on an unheated, unlocked bus! At one point I really thought he was going to make me stand with my nose in the corner for a half hour.”

CJ smirks at me, still not a bit sorry. But I can’t be too mad at her and she knows it. I never felt more like I belonged than in that moment.

“Anyway, after that I was assigned a room every night. And I figured out that spraying some lavender on Margaret’s pillow knocks her right out.”

CJ laughs. “There are days I wanted to spritz her in the face like a cat! That lavender tip would have been handy.”

“Oh come on,” I chastise CJ a bit, “she might be a bit quirky, but you have to admit, you wouldn’t want to run the White House without her, would you?”

“Absolutely not.” CJ quickly agrees.

“So how is work? Do you have a new Margaret?”

CJ sighs. “No, she’s one of a kind. I have a team of Carols though, they research opportunities and help me figure out what to do next. I wish I could get Carol to come join me, but she’s pretty happy at that Nonprofit promoting Veteran’s Courts.”

“She sure is! We had lunch last week. She’s doing some remarkable things.” Kate agrees.

“So how are Danny and Hope?” I ask, trying to move us away from work topics. We get so little time together. I want to hear about their lives.

“They are great. She’s starting to talk more. Not up to Lulu’s speed but she’s getting there. I think Josh has been giving Danny some book suggestions to increase her vocabulary.”

“Probably. He’s really invested in the Santos Education for the 21 century plan. He’ll have all our kids passing advanced placement tests in kindergarten!” 

CJ laughs at my obvious joke, but Kate’s brow is wrinkled. I feel guilty. A kid conversation doesn’t really include her. Maybe work is a safer subject?

“What about you Kate, are you excited about the convention?”

“Not really.” She admits, “but you, know, Will.”

CJ and I exchange a glance. I mean, we know Will, but nobody really knows what Will and Kate are. It’s not uncommon for them to appear together at events but Kate’s not really the type to dish. Still, CJ sensing an opportunity, makes a bit of an effort.

“Why yes, I do believe I know him. Younger fella, glasses? How do you know him?”

Kate laughs, but doesn’t say anything.

“Oh come on, Kate! What good is girl time if you won’t give us anything? What’s the deal with you and Will? You’re the last of the group without a ring.” CJ’s always been willing to jump to the point. And she gets a response.

“What’s to say? Technically he lives in Oregon and I live in DC. We’re still seeing each other in a very non-committed yet monogamous way.”

“Are you okay with that?” I ask. I feel like I sort of know what she means and I didn’t really like it when Josh and I were dancing around each other after Germany.

“I’ve been married a couple times already. I’m not all that interested in trying it again any time soon. Will’s in DC enough, and I spent some time out there writing before I came back to the District. This is working.”

“Well, okay then. Whatever works!” CJ agrees clinking her glass with Kate’s and letting her off the hook.

. . . . . .

The mood in the Bartlet suite is festive as we watch Gabe Tillman give the second night’s opening speech. There’s really no doubt that Will wrote it, even though he’s denied it several times now.

Gov. Tillman looks straight into the camera to deliver the final lines, “America is built on the promise of a people always reaching for something greater, never resting on the past, never satisfied. A people willing to work to make tomorrow better than today. A people who will embrace the future for all it’s potential. That’s why we’re here tonight. This is only the beginning!”

Will turns a lovely shade of pink as the room bursts into applause.

From his chair, kitty corner from the couch where Will, Josh and Charlie sit, Jed proclaims, “well done, young man, well done!”

“I told you. . .” Will begins his denial again, but Jed shushes him with a hand wave.

“No one in this room will believe you if you deny it, and no one will repeat it outside of here if you admit it. And from a man who has had the immeasurable pleasure of speaking your words, I want you to take the congratulations that you are due.”

Will closes his mouth and gives the slightest acknowledging nod to Jed’s words, but it satisfies his former commander in chief who leads another round of applause.

Will is thoroughly embarrassed as Josh pounds him on the back, genuinely proud of him. He’s one of us. When the applause finally subsides, Will gets up and makes his way to the small kitchen for a drink, his face still flushed but his eyes shining.

I plop down in his vacant seat and Josh wraps his arm around me. He leans close and speaks softly, so only I can hear. 

"You know, I absolutely didn't appreciate it at the time, but I'm glad Will hired you for Russell's campaign. It gave you a chance to prove yourself away from me. And even though  **I** didn't need convincing, others probably did. But I still wish you'd been with me. It would have made everything better. I’m so glad we are doing this together this time. It’s the way it should be."


	33. Conventional Intentions

The camaraderie in the Bartlet suite has been exhilarating. And Jed seems to be thriving on the slight chaos: the laughter, the storytelling, the smiling. Every once in a while Abbey pauses and looks at him critically, examining whether he’s really up for this. Whenever she does my heart stutters and I find myself holding my breath until she gives a slight smile of relief. The truth is, he’s in fine form tonight.

But when Governor Tillman’s speech is over Abbey only lets it go a couple minutes before she stands up. “Okay everyone, time to clear out. I’m sure you all have things to do and places to be.”

Everyone moves pretty quickly, respecting her authority, even Charlie and Zoey. Soon the only ones left are the Presidents, their wives, and Donna and me.

I admit, I’m lingering a bit, because this moment, seeing two Presidents exchanging a private word, is a rare commodity, and I don’t want to miss it. But Donna is guiding me toward the door. 

In the hallway, we pause for a moment, watching Zoey and Charlie slip into their own room. Waiting on the Santoses is second nature for us, but Donna takes the moment to slip her arms around me and rest her head on my shoulder.

“Tired?” I ask her in a low voice as I hold her.

“Just taking a breath.” She assures me with a smile.

It really is only a few minutes before Matt and Helen exit the suite. We fall into place beside them as our entourage makes its way toward our suites..

After a few moments, Matt grins at me. “I think he’s going to endorse me.” He offers with a smirk.

“Well, that’s good.” I agree, while Helen and Donna laugh at his joke. Our mood is high. We are at the pinnacle of the campaign. This is the moment when everything comes together. We present a unified front. We show the world who we are, and what our goals are. We remind them of our successes. We promise to be better.

Sure we still have one more night of this. Tomorrow Matt will officially accept the nomination and the balloons will drop. But that just marks the beginning of the rest of the campaign. That’s the starting gun for the final push.

Tonight, we get to pause in the moment. But first, we need to check on the children and gather the troops.

I”m not really a bit surprised to find Carly and Donna’s parents with Peter in the Santos suite, watching a movie. Donna’s Dad is taking his chaperoning duties very seriously. But he is letting them sit on the couch together so I guess he’s relaxed a little bit.

“Hey Honey,” Helen greets Peter with a quick kiss to his head as she passes by. “Where’s your sister?”

“Congresswoman Wyatt stopped by. Huck and Molly wanted her to come watch a movie with them. It’s okay right? Linda is with her.”

“Yes, of course dear.”

Matt smiles at him and Peter visibly relaxes. He just wants to do the right thing.

“Did she say when they’ll be done? We’ve gotta do the thing later.”

“She knew. She said she’d have Miranda back here by 9:30.”

“Okay. That’s great.”

“Carly, are you coming down to watch President Bartlet’s speech tonight?” Donna inquires gently.

“Yes, I’d like to.” Carly looks hopefully between us and her grandparents..

“It’s fine with me.” Jim declares. “Maybe I’ll come down there myself.”

Well. That’s something I didn’t expect. “Okay. Let’s just all meet back here at 9:30, alright?”

“Yes, that gives us all time to freshen up.” Helen remarks, giving Matt a pointed look.

“That works.” Matt announces, before turning back to the kids, then looking at the television screen. “How much longer on your movie?”

“About a half hour.” Carly answers.

“It’s fine with me if you want to finish it.” He informs Donna’s parents. “I’m just going to change my shirt.”

Jim gives a little chuckle as Matt slips into his bedroom. And Helen and Lottie exchange a little smirk of understanding. And with that small bit of domestic interaction, Donna’s parents come to realize that the Santoses are just people.

And I have a glimmer of hope for two more votes.

. . . . . 

Donna opens the door to our suite very quietly, in case Lulu’s already asleep. But as we walk into the room two faces look up from the book that Mom is reading to her and give us identical smiles.

“Hi, Daddy, Hi!” Lulu greets me exuberantly. She climbs out of Bubbe’s laps and runs to us.

“What am I? Chopped liver?” Donna grumbles.

“Hi Mama.” Lulu responds as I bend down and pick her up, then pull Donna in for a group hug.

“So, someone’s not sleepy?”

“Apparently not.” Mom responds a bit tiredly.

“I’m not that surprised.” Donna pipes in. “She had a long afternoon nap. I suspected that we’d pay for it tonight.”

Mom nods her agreement. Suddenly I’m feeling kind of bad. We thought that with all the grandparents here, we didn’t really need Nicole. But Donna’s parents have been pretty focused on Carly. Maybe they aren’t giving Mom quite enough help? Maybe we’re asking too much of a seventy-five year old widow. I know she loves Lulu, but watching an active toddler all day and into the night is a lot. She looks like she’s ready for bed herself. I can’t really leave her here alone with my wide-awake daughter.

But that gives me an idea.

“What if we take Lulu downstairs with us?”

Donna whips around from where she’s pouring herself coffee with a surprised look on her face.

“She’s going strong, and Mom looks pretty beat. This is a great chance for Lulu to hear Jed speak. And it sounded like your parents were going to join us. If she gets fussy one of them can bring her back.

Donna looks a Lulu for a long minute, contemplating the wisdom of my suggestion. Finally, she agrees. “I guess we can give it a try. It’s not like she’s going to remember this, but I think it would make Jed happy to know she was backstage.”

“Okay then.”

. . . . . 

Lulu is still bright eyed as our group settles into our seats backstage to watch on a large monitor. She climbs off my lap and onto Zoey’s at some point, and I’m good with that. She’s definitely got enough family back here to keep her entertained.

While Senator Reeseman gives Jed’s introduction, my mind wanders to how different this feels this year.

The rest of our team is spread throughout the arena, where they can see President Bartlet and the audience. For the 98 and 02 conventions that’s where I watched from. They are good seats. You can really feel the excitement of the crowd. And you can learn a lot about what topics seem to really push the delegates’ buttons.

In 2006 I couldn’t stop moving long enough to watch anything. It’s hard to think positively of our vice-president when I think about what he put me through last time. That convention was nothing like anything I’d ever experienced. Brokered. Something that I never hope to experience again.

Sure, it will make a great story for my Memoir, but the stress of it aged me a decade. Watching men that I have very little respect for use every political tool in the box to try to claim the mantle that Jed Bartlet would leave behind, while my guy attempted to stay true to himself, and above the fray. 

It didn’t sit well with me. Not at all.

I still remember the moment that I thought it had slipped through my fingers. I sat in a dark corridor, early in the morning, barely conscious but racking my brain for any ideas that could change the tide, when Leo found me.

The fact that he was bearing coffee was my first clue. And he was gentle. He assured me that I had done all that I could. I can still hear his “ _ you done good, kid _ ” ringing in my ears. Even now, it fills me with pride.

He didn’t ask me to do anything more. He told me the President had to put an end to it. He listened when I told him Matt was his own man.

So he spoke to Matt. He made the arrangements. And then he really learned what I had tried to explain..

Standing backstage with Helen as she smirked at me, I felt the oddest thrill of hope, even as I knew what was supposed to happen. But deep in my soul I knew that Matt Santos should be the President.

And then he spoke and he moved mountains.

He showed the whole convention that the greatest political move is being true to yourself.

I look over at him now, his eyes shining as they are riveted on Jed. He’s absorbing every morsel Jed has to offer and deeping his own resolve to do what is right and true.

Lulu climbs back into my lap and puts her head down on my shoulder. I think the day has finally caught up to her. But I’d like her to see just a bit of this for herself. So I stand up and walk over to a break in the curtain.

We catch a glimpse of Jed’s profile. “Gampa” Lulu whispers.

“That’s right, babydoll.”

I rub her back as I sway back and forth. In just a few minutes the rhythms of the movement and the speech knock her out. But I stand there listening in awe.

There’s no doubt that Toby wrote this speech. And Jed’s delivery is like magic in a bottle, transporting me back to our wonder years when we were fresh faced and our optimism was untarnished. 

Sure, I’m older and wiser now, and I can look back and see how many mistakes we made. But I also have the wisdom to know that they are necessary for growth. We are all better people for them. We aren’t perfect but we are committed to this country. To the idea that just by trying we can make it better.

Matt, Helen, and Donna join me as Jed leans into the conclusion. “It’s not the battles we lose that bother me.” He pauses as a hush falls over the crowd. “It’s the ones we don’t suit up for. This country has unlimited potential. There is a place here for everyone. There is a purpose here for all of us.  From the President and his staff, from the party elders to the first time voter, we're a team. We win together, we lose together. We celebrate and we mourn together. And defeats are softened and victories sweeter because we did them together. This is our party. This is our Country. This is our time. Time to rally around Matt Santos, our President.” 

Matt takes Helen’s hand and leads her out onto the stage with Peter and Miranda just behind them. Then Abbey, Zoey and Charlie file out too. Finally, Eric and Dottie Baker and their two college age girls make their way out. There is music flooding the venue as everyone smiles and waves.

Another night in the books.

. . . . . 

The last day of the convention still has quite a bit of business to attend to. This is where a lot of the schedules are made. There are heavy negotiations for which events will draw which headliners and which down ticket races will get the most support.

It seems like everyone wants to talk to me today.

I keep reminding them that it’s Amy they want. She’s the keeper of the keys. She’s the Grand Pooh-ba. She’s the Campaign Director.

And she’s good at it. Really good.

That doesn’t stop people from trying to convince me to overrule her. But I hold fast. I see her tactical brilliance. I’m so glad I put her in charge.

. . . . . . 

Matt is on a roll. He has the audience completely captivated as he reminds them of what we’ve done so far. He may not have gone back to Houston and opened more health care clinics but together we’ve increased Medicaid benefits for millions of Americans. We’ve got more funding for rural hospitals and clinics, better prenatal care for all women, and reduced the burden of high deductibles for vulnerable families. 

And although he hasn’t succeeded in extending the school year, he’s signed legislation creating an optional free summer program which allows public school students to take AP classes or learn a skilled trade. He’s increased funding for IB schools and special education. And he’s very close to passing universal preschool. 

And that’s not even to mention all that Donna and Helen have done to promote nutrition stability all year round to underprivileged kids. Their summer breakfast and lunch programs make a huge difference to a lot of families.

I’m so incredibly proud of our team. Of him. 

Still my eyes roll involuntarily when he delivers his signature line. “And if you don’t like the job I’m doing, I’ll be the first one unemployed.”

Bram and Otto groan audibly, drawing my attention and earning a look that I picked up from Leo.

“I swear, he went off script!” Otto insists, “that wasn’t in the text.”

“I know.” I’m not really upset. It’s all Matt. He probably did it just to rile me up. But I’m in too good of a mood for it to work.

When Matt’s done here, we’ll party. First, more of the glad handing that comes with these things. Then some gratitude and encouragement for the staff. 

Eventually. it will be just the four of us. When I’ll be able to tell Matt what a great job he did. And how I know that he’ll accomplish even more and that the American people know him and trust him.

And then, finally, I’ll take my wife’s hand, say good night to our friends, and we’ll have a few moments to ourselves.

Tomorrow we’ll sleep in. Our Mothers already have plans to go back to the museum and they aren’t at all subtle about how they’d like us to use our time alone.

Not that I need the suggestion. I know exactly what we need right now. A good night’s sleep, followed by some enjoyable physical activity, then a nice brunch.

Then it’s back to the campaign trail before making our way home on Air Force One and a full court press until November.

It’s not quite over yet, but I know without a doubt this is the best convention I’ve ever attended. 

It’s not like my first, as Brennan’s aide, with hardly anything to do but soak in the atmosphere. It’s not like the Bartlet years where we were conquering heroes about to change the world. It’s not like the brokered convention where I didn’t sleep and didn’t eat and gave every bit of myself to the cause. 

I’m sure it’s partially just the paces of this one. And of course, having Donna and Lulu here makes a huge difference in my level of enjoyment.

But more it’s than that, I finally feel like I don’t have anything to prove. I’m not, as Leo would say, a young terrier nipping at the heels of the party. I’m an elder statesman. I don’t know exactly how that happened especially since I’m not even 50 yet. But I have paid my dues. 

Now we just have to go out and win this thing.


	34. The Western States Chronicle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m absolutely heartbroken over the loss of RBG. I really debated whether to suspend this story because it feels so trivial given the state of the world. I’ve decided to go ahead and post but to use this platform to urge everyone to vote and do whatever you can to mobilize others to vote. This is a battle for the soul of our nation.
> 
> https://www.whenweallvote.org/

The second week of September and I’m feeling pretty good. Running for reelection is definitely easier this time around. We’ve got a much better record and we don’t have the albatross of Jed’s undisclosed MS hanging around our necks.

Clicking through the photos in my phone, I can’t help but humming a happy tune. Some of these candid personal shots from the Labor Day Barbecue would be great for campaigning. Of course, I’ll need to check with Helen first, but I don’t think she’ll mind. I put them in a folder to send to Amy once I have permission.

I stop and stare at one of Carly and Peter with their heads close together, sharing a secret, oblivious to the world around them. Definitely not for the campaign, but it’s a beautiful shot. 

“Look at your babies.” I text before attaching it and sending it to the group chat I started with Becky and Helen. It’s much easier to coordinate the logistics of young, secret love this way.

I’m so glad that we got to spend some time all together as a family when Conor moved in. Sean and Matt seem to be on the same page with the kids, that’s a big relief. Not that they’ll have much time together, but we will be in Wisconsin a few times. It is a battleground state. 

Awww, the next picture of Lulu is so cute. She’s smirking at the camera, looking so much like Josh it takes my breath away. I send that one to him and Sylvia. Neither of them can ever get enough pictures. I can almost guarantee that within two seconds of opening it, they’ll be showing her off to someone.

Okay, what’s next? 

The speech to the Women’s Alliance for Social Justice still needs work. There’s a quote I want her to close with-- "Fight for the things that you care about, but do it in a way that will [ lead others to join you ](https://www.radcliffe.harvard.edu/news/in-news/ruth-bader-ginsburg-tells-young-women-fight-things-you-care-about)."

. . . . .

The intercom buzzes and Karen announces-- “Josh is on line one.”

“Well hello, there, this is a nice surprise.”

“Is Helen in the office?” Josh counters my pleasantry in a serious, choked up voice and I find myself standing up in reaction.

“No. It’s after 3. She’s in the Residence.”

“I need you to go get her and bring her to the Oval. Right now.”

“Josh? What’s going on?”

“I’ll tell you when you get here. I need the two of you as soon as possible.”

“Josh!”

“It’s going to be fine, baby. Just get the First Lady please.”

“Okay.”

I hang up and immediately walk out the door without gathering anything from my desk or turning my computer off. As I exit my office, Karen looks up at me expectantly, her brow a little furrowed. Maybe she picked up on Josh’s tone too.

“I’m going to the Residence, then the Oval. I don’t know when I’ll return. Have everyone on stand-by.”

“What . . .”

“That’s all I have for you right now.”

Jackie falls in beside me as we head towards the stairs. I’m not running. There’s no reason to run. Something’s up but I don’t know what. I need to be calm. Josh gave me instructions and he’ll tell me what to do next.

I find Helen in the East Room reading.

“Donna! Hi!” Helen greets me with a bright smile. This isn’t normal. But it’s not completely unheard of for me to stop by unexpectedly between 3-6. But her smile quickly turns from happy to puzzled. I must be giving off a vibe.

She gestures to a chair for me to sit, but I remain where I am.

“Is Peter home from school yet?”

“Yes.”

“Josh needs us in the Oval Office immediately. I don’t know why, and I don’t know for how long. Do you need to give Peter instructions?”

While I’m talking Helen looks worried, but when I’m done she stands, smooths her pants and calmly replies. “Yes, let me just tell him I’m going downstairs.”

I follow her to Peter’s room, but stand out of his vision when she taps lightly and opens the door.

“Peter, honey, I have to run downstairs for a bit. I don’t know how long I’ll be. Can you make sure Miranda gets a snack when she gets home? And tell her to start her homework by 5.”

“Okay, Mom.” He answers agreeably.

Then Helen shuts the door and we walk silently to the West Wing with our details following us. I’m pleased with both of us. We are calm, cool, and collected. I don’t know what we are about to learn, but I have faith that we can handle it. 

As we approach the Oval, I consider what to do. Normally, we’d enter through the Secretary’s Office, but something makes me skip the door next to Ronna’s desk and go to the double doors that lead to the Oval Office. As the Marine opens it for us and we walk through, I have a strange sense of foreboding. Like our world is about to turn upside down.

Glancing around, I quickly realize that Josh isn’t even in the room.

Matt looks up, surprised to see us, but his grin fades as our dour countenance registers. He stands up nervously.

“Helen? What’s wrong? The kids?”

She looks from him to me in confusion, but I don’t have any answers either.

“Josh said to . . .” I begin trying to articulate a reason for our sudden appearance as I across the room towards his door, but it opens suddenly and he strides through it.

“Sorry. I got hung up on the phone. I meant to beat them down here.” He says to Matt by way of explanation. But it explains nothing.

“What’s going on?” Matt asks briskly.

“I think we’d better sit down.” Josh informs us gesturing toward the sitting area.

Helen takes a spot on a couch and Matt quickly joins her, so I sit across from them. But Josh remains standing. 

He runs his left hand through his hair, making it stand up. He needs a haircut again. His right hand clenches and unclenches twice, a sure sign that he’s stressed out by what he’s about to say.

“Look, I’m sorry to do this this way. I really did mean to be in here before they got down here.” He offers looking at Helen and Matt. I’m so confused. Why did he ask us down here if he wanted to talk to Matt alone?

He takes a deep breath. “Mr. President, I just got off the phone with the publisher of the Western States Chronicle. In the morning they are running a story that you’ve been having a two year affair with a 26 year old woman. They have photographs and receipts. They’d like to know if you’ll comment for the record.”

“Not again.” Helen mutters grabbing Matt’s hand even as he bounds up off the couch, pulling her with him.

“It’s false! A complete fabrication. I have never cheated on Helen and I never would.” He insists hotly, “ And Josh, the fact that you would ask. . .”

“Whoa.” Josh interrupts. “I had to. You know that. Remember Cleveland? I have to ask. It’s my job. You don’t have to convince me.”

Matt stops short. “Right.” He finally breathes out, chest heaving a little as he and Josh stare each other down, taking each other’s measurements in the moment, both wanting to know that the other believes them.

“Now, let’s sit down and talk.” Josh instructs Matt calmly, crossing in front of him and taking a seat next to me.

Matt releases another long breath as Helen sits, tugging him back down. I notice that she hasn’t let go of his hand.

“What did you mean, ‘not again’?” I ask her gently.

“There were rumors when he was in the Mayor's office. I didn’t believe it then and I don’t believe it now.” Helen vows. 

I find myself nodding at her. My gut reaction is that she’s right. I believe in her and I believe in Matt. We just went through this ourselves. I think I know exactly how she feels.

“Josh--” Matt starts again, “I need to know that you believe me.”

“Absolutely.” Josh jumps in. “I don’t know where this story is coming from but I know you. You trusted me. And I trust you.”

“Damn tabloids.” Helen blurts out. “ You guys do know what this is like.”

“That’s the thing though,” Josh counters, “the Western States Chronicle isn’t a tabloid. This is a well respected newspaper. They wouldn’t be publishing if they thought it was libel. They have “confirmation”, he makes air quotes with his fingers, “from the woman. They say they have photographs and physical proof.”

“They can’t have proof! Because it didn’t happen!” Matt shouts.

“I know, I know. But I don’t know if I can stop them from publishing.” Josh is speaking softly, trying to reassure the President. He reminds me so much of Leo right now. Handling the President’s righteous indignation but not losing sight of the issue at hand.

Josh pauses for a few beats, and the amount of trouble we are in really starts to settle in. Finally he says, “I think we need to get Ainsley in here.”

“Yeah,” Matt agrees a little bit miserably. Helen is still gripping his hand in both of hers. It occurs to me then that we really should give them a few minutes to themselves.

“Josh, Why don’t we step into your office for a few minutes. We can get Ainsley down here and then we can make a plan.” I tilt my head a bit towards Matt and Helen and hope he gets my point without me actually having to say out loud that I think they need some privacy or at least what passes for privacy in this fishbowl.

Josh looks deeply into my eyes, understanding my body language, and I can tell he gets the message when he gives a quick nod and stands up.

“With your permission, Mr. President?” He asks Matt.

“Yes of course.”

“Thank you, Mr. President.” Josh emphasizes Matt’s title twice, reminding them of where they are and the both the power and the duty that comes with the office. Somehow we will get through this.

. . . . . . 

As soon as we step through the entry to Josh’s office and the door clicks behind us, Josh is pulling me into his arms.

“Oh god, that was horrible.” He mumbles into my hair, holding me tightly.

“You did fine.”

“I blindsided him in front of his wife! I didn’t mean to do that. I was going to give him a heads up first.”

“Maybe it was better this way. You got to see both of their reactions at once. You really do believe him, don’t you?”

“I do.” Josh assures me. “Do you?”

“Yeah, I do. We’ve been working side by side for four years. Believe me, I know the signs when someone is cheating.” Josh’s eyes flash in anger the way they do whenever the specter of Dr. Freeride makes its way into our world. But I distract him from that by running a hand down his face. “I don’t believe that Matt had an affair.”

“Me neither. But this is bad. I’m telling you, Donna, I spent a long time on the phone with this guy. He says his sources are rock solid. I couldn’t budge him.”

“What are we going to do?”

“I need one more minute of this.” He answers, pulling me back closer and keeping me pressed against him. I let him hold me but my mind is racing, trying to get caught up to where Josh probably already is, but it’s hard to get past how awful I feel for our friends.

“Okay.” Josh finally groans, releasing me from his hold. “First, we really do need to get Ainsley down here. We also need Amy. The Campaign is going to need to get ready.”

“Oh my god! The Election!” I can’t believe I didn’t immediately think of it. I feel stupid. “What’s this going to do to his chances?”

Josh looks at me levelly. “This is going to kill him if we can’t figure out how to stop it. So let’s get to work. You call Ainsley. See if you can get her down here right away without telling her anything. I’ll call Amy.”


	35. Unless You Have A Better Plan

As Donna steps into Margaret’s office to have her call Ainsley, I wonder how much Margaret knows. I trust her implicitly. Still, I need to strategize on who to bring into the room and when. For now, Ainsley, and of course, Sam. I remember how irritated I was that Toby found out about Jed’s MS before I did. Not that this is the same. Jed does have MS. But I don’t believe for a minute that Matt cheated on Helen.

I probably should consider the possibility. But my gut is screaming at me that he’s been falsely accused. And I know exactly what that feels like.

I have to fix this.

Even as I hit number 9 on speed dial and put the phone to my ear, I’m wondering whether she’ll stand with us. This is the longest she’s stuck with one thing, and she’s a political animal, she usually hedges her bets and she always lands on her feet. 

“Hey J.” 

“Hey Amy. We need to talk, can you come over ASAP?”

“Yeah, sure. Wanna give me a clue?”

“Not over the phone, no.”

“It’s bad?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, I’ll be right there.”

She hangs up without a goodbye. I appreciate both the expediency and the lack of pretense. As I slide my phone back into my pocket, Donna re-enters my office. I just want to gather her in my arms and never let go, but that’s going to have to wait. Right now, we really do need to figure out what to do next.

“Okay, Ainsley’s on her way down. Should we get Sam in here too?”

“Yeah, probably.” My stomach clenches at the thought of telling Sam. This is twice now that I’ve convinced him to join me in a quest to make the world better, and twice that the integrity of the man I’ve followed has been called into question. I hope he’ll continue to trust me.

Donna watches me carefully then crosses the room and gives my arm a quick squeeze. “It’ll be okay, Josh. We’ve been through worse. We’ll get through this.”

Her reassurance is exactly what I need.

Just then the side door opens, and Matt and Helen walk through hand in hand.

“Thanks for giving us a few minutes.” Matt offers. “I know this looks bad, but I give you my word. The story is fake. There has to be a way to prove it. If anyone can get us through this it’s you. So, what should we do?”

“Ainsley and Amy are on their way. I’d also like to get Sam in here if that’s alright with you.”

“Yes, of course.” Matt demurs.

“Margaret!” 

“Yeah, boss?” She asks as she opens the door instantly. I’m fairly sure she’s been listening, but she’s the very soul of discretion, so I’m not going to worry about it.

“Get Sam down here.”

She nods solemnly. She’s probably already got him on the way. Donna steers Matt and Helen over to my couch and chairs. They might as well be comfortable while we wait.

Sure enough, it’s only a minute until Margaret opens the door. “Sam and Ainsley are here.” She announces.

“What’s up?” Sam asks pleasantly as they walk through the door. “Oh, hello, Sir, Ma’am.” He offers as he spots Matt and Helen in the corner. His brow furrows. It’s not common to find the First Couple in my office, and I think he’s starting to pick up the vibe.

Ainsley gives him a glance. I think she read the room much quicker. She places a hand on his arm and he closes his mouth.

“What can we do for you?” Ainsley inquires.

“Have a seat.” Matt instructs gesturing to the chairs flanking the couch where he and Helen sit. Once Sam and Ainsley take their places, Matt looks straight at them and lays it out.

“The Western States Chronicle is going to publish a false story about me tomorrow. What can we do?”

“What’s the story?” Sam asks in his practical way.

Helen squeezes Matt’s hand almost imperceptibly. “They are claiming that I’ve been having an affair.”

“Well, that’s ridiculous.” Sam responds instantly, earning a grateful nod from Matt and a quick smile from Helen.

“What proof do they have?” Ainsley wants to know. Matt looks to me to step in. The fact is, he doesn’t really know. He didn’t talk to the publisher. He only knows what I’ve told him.

“They say they have photographs, documentary evidence, and confirmation from the woman allegedly involved.”

“And they called you to get a comment?”

“Yes.”

“And what did you say?”

“Well, as soon as he told me the allegation, I started to deny it, but he wouldn’t listen. He said that in addition to the source for the story, whom they claim had first hand knowledge of rendezvous, they have photographs of them together, receipts from hotels, and corroboration from the woman. He said their proof is so convincing that he wouldn’t accept my denial until after I met with the President. He gave us until 8pm to craft a statement. I think he was under the impression that the President might not deny it.”

“I categorically deny it.” Matt jumps in flatly.

“Have you called back?”

“No, we’ve got until 8 and we wanted to see what you thought about it.”

Ainsley sits there silently, assessing Matt for a few minutes. Then she looks back at me. “Did they give you the woman’s name?”

“Yes, it’s Susan Rodriegez.”

“How long are they saying this occurred?”

“Two years.”

“Have they given you access to any of the proof that they have?”

“No.”

“No dates or locations? Nothing specific?”

“No.”

She turns back to Matt. “Mr. President, have you ever met Susan Rodriegez?”

“No.”

“How do you know that?”

“What do you mean, how do I know? If I’d met her I’d have been there!” He answers testily. But Ainsley is not shaken.

“Do you get the name of every person that you’ve ever met?”

“Oh.” He drawls out, as the answer dawns on him. “I see.”

“Right.” Ainsley responds, giving him a gentle smile that totally contradicts with the hard edge to her questioning. “Mr. President, do you deny having sex with Susan Roderiegez?”

“Yes, of course, I just said that.”

“No, you categorically denied the story. That’s not the same thing. We have to be very careful in our denial.”

Ainsley looks at all of us carefully. “He can deny having an affair, or really more specifically sexual relations, because he knows the answer to that. But we can’t really refute their proof without access to it.”

“So should I call the publisher back now?” I’d really like some guidance on this.

“I don’t know.” Ainsley admits. “I’m not really a strategist. I’m a lawyer. And technically, Sir, I’m not your lawyer, I’m the White House lawyer. This isn’t really government business. I’m not sure how involved I should be.”

“But this is an attack on his Presidency!” Sam jumps in. 

“We don’t know what this is yet.” Ainsley responds softly.

“Well, it’s not blackmail.” Donna chimes in, “because they went straight to a paper. They didn’t come to any of us seeking anything.”

“And it doesn’t sound like she went to a tabloid so it doesn’t look like she’s looking for a cash payout. But maybe she’s looking for fame? Maybe someone with a grudge?” Ainsley offers.

“She could still be a gold digger. If it breaks as a legitimate story there are lots of ways for her to cash in on it.” Sam reminds us.

“I think it’s something else. What’s the biggest thing he has to lose right now?” I ask the group.

“The election.” Helen notes.

“Bingo.”

“We need to get Amy in here.” Sam suggests.

“She’s on the way.”

“Ainsley, I would love your help but I don’t want to put you in an awkward position.” Matt says, a little morosely, “If you don’t want to stay, I understand.”

“I want to help.” She reassures him. “But I can’t be involved in discussions with your campaign director. Especially not in this office during work hours. In fact, I might suggest that you take it up to the Residence? I would be happy to stop by there after 5 and offer any assistance that I can as a friend.”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea.” Sam immediately agrees with his wife.

I’m not so sure that’s necessary. I mean we have already had meetings about reelection here to some extent. And a false accusation isn’t just about the campaign it really is also about his presidency. This could affect our whole legislative agenda. Though, truth be told that’s not moving very quickly these days with the election fast approaching. Still Ainsley doesn’t steer us wrong, and as Sam likes to point out, it’s not like I’m a real lawyer.

“Okay. If it makes you feel better, we’ll move this meeting to the East Drawing Room. Sam, I want you to find Lou and Bram. Also get Ryan over here, I don’t want him blindsided either. Once you’ve talked to each of them, they can pass it down to their subordinates. Keeping the message really simple right now. We’ve been alerted there will be a news story tomorrow. The President unequivocally denies the allegations. They are not authorized to comment. I don’t want them telling the rank and file what the story is yet, but you can tell them, and once they’ve given the message to their subordinates they can join us in the Residence.”

“Okay.” Sam stands up to leave, and Ainsley joins it. As I watch them walk through the door, something hits me.

“Hold on a minute, Sam.” I turn back to Matt, “excuse me for a second.”

Sam and Ainsley are waiting in front of Margaret’s desk, so I guess I am about to let her in. “Sam, this probably goes without saying. If Lou, Bram or Ryan have any reluctance, then I don’t want them talking to their subordinates. You’ll have to do it.”

“Of course.” He quickly agrees.

I look at Ainsley for confirmation that I’m not out of bounds here.

“That’s fine, Josh. These people are political appointees, if they aren’t prepared to support the President you don’t have to keep them around.”

“I’m not looking to fire anyone, but I don’t want mixed messages going out to the employees at large.”

Ainsley nods. “That makes perfect sense. I’ll take care of the counsel’s office. We’ll do everything we can on the administration side and leave the campaign strategy to the rest of you.”

“Thanks guys. Come up to the Residence as soon as you can.”

“Sure.

As he and Ainsley head out together, I realize that we might need to think about bringing in a different lawyer for Matt. I wonder if that will be a financial problem for him. I wonder what I can do about it. That might be a question Ainsley can actually answer. Then I just need to figure out who. I wonder if Joe Quincy would take the job?

I turn to Margaret. “How much do you know?”

“A newspaper is going to run a story that the President is cheating on his wife. But he’s not and we’re going to have to make sure everyone knows that.”

“Right. Um, keep up the good work.”

Margaret gets her little self-satisfied smile and gives me a nod. I sure am glad she’s on our side.

When I walk back into my office, I address Matt and Helen first. “Why don’t you guys head up to the Residence? I’ll call the publisher back and make another request for further information so we can specifically refute the allegations. When Amy gets here, we’ll join you up there. Probably a half hour or so.”

Matt’s nodding his agreement, and I find myself swallowing hard. God, I hate this.

“And, I’m not sure when you want to talk to the kids?”

Matt and Helen’s eyes both go a little wide. Obviously they hadn’t been thinking that far ahead. But it’s something they should figure out together, and have a little private time to figure out what they want to do.

Helen stands up and tugs at his hand. “Come on, honey.”

“Um,” Donna interrupts, “I’ve got your staff on stand-by. I should probably give them a heads up. And we might want to include Annabeth in the strategy meeting.”

“Yeah, probably.” Helen agrees glumly. Donna looks at me to see what I think.

“Yeah. But just what I told Sam to tell the others. No details. There is a story about to break. The President and First Lady deny the allegations. No comment.”

“What about Annabeth?”

“Yeah, she’s got a good head on her shoulders. And she’s really good at PR. You can let her in the room.”

“Okay.”

Matt nods once then he and Helen go back through the Oval towards the Residence. As Donna moves toward the other door, I snag her wrist and pull her to me. She gives me a soft smile as I rest my forehead against hers.

“We’ll all be fine.” She whispers to me. “I don’t know how, but it’ll all be fine.”

I want to believe her. I really do. But I don’t know. This is enormous.

I place my lips gently against hers in a ghost of a kiss then let her go.

Amy arrives before I can call the publisher. In fact, just mere minutes after Donna’s gone. I’m actually sort of relieved to do this without an audience. In typical Amy fashion, she starts in on me as soon as she shuts the door behind her.

“What’s going on, J? I just passed Donna in the hall and she looked like a woman about to go on a warpath. It’s not a bad look on her at all, by the way. I wished I’d known about this side of her when I was running the WLC.”

“Yes. She’s formidable.” I readily agree. I’d much rather extole Donna’s virtues than face an Amy that feels wronged.

“So, what’s up?” She asks archly, hand on a hip.

Ugh. Well. Here it goes.

“The Publisher for the Western States Chronicle called today looking for a comment on a story they are running in the morning.”

“And from your tone, I assume it’s not a good story?”

“You assume correctly.”

“What’s the story?”

“They are publishing a story that the President has been having an affair for the last two years.”

“Fuck.” Amy declares with absolutely no heat behind the sentiment. She closes her eyes and I let her have a moment to process the information. When she reopens them, her eyes are blazing a bit.

“Sullivan’s people are going to go ballistic. This is manna from heaven for them. If his base was complacent before, this will mobilize them. We need a strategy and we need one fast.”

“Aren’t you going to ask me if he’s having an affair?”

“I don’t care. I only care whether or not they can convince people he is. You know what the Tabloids can do. This is the freaking Western States Chronicle! If they are running a story they’ve got more than innuendo or bald accusation.”

“I don’t have details yet. I’ve been told that they have some photographs and documentation, which I haven’t seen, plus “confirmation” from the woman.”

“Is that how he said it?” Amy asks-- “Confirmation from the woman?”

“Yeah.”

“That means they got the story from someone else. We need to find out exactly what they have and then we have to figure out how to discredit it. Or if we can’t discredit it, we need to get him on 60 minutes to cry and do a mea culpa and try to get past it. We are running out of time.”

“He’s not going to do a mea culpa, Amy. He didn’t do it.”

“Like I said, I don’t care. I only care about how this plays out and whether we can win this election. So where is everyone? We’ve got a lot of work to do.” 

“Sam is gathering the troops.” I inform her, “we are meeting in the Residence in about 15 minutes. Step one is to craft a denial. Then I’ll call the Chronicle back. I’m going to push for more time, urge them not to run the story until they give us a real chance to refute it. If that doesn’t work I’ll get as much information as I can and give them our statement.”

“It won’t work.” Amy states the obvious. “They’ll publish your statement at the end-- or at least state that he denies it. But they won’t hold their story, they’ll want the scoop.”

“Yeah, but unless you’ve got a better plan, this is where we’re at.”


	36. We're In This Together

It feels a little odd to be happy that Amy is taking care of Josh right now. I suppose my therapist would tell me that it just means that I’m confident in our relationship. Which I am. But this isn’t about that-- Josh does best when he’s got information and he knows what he has to work with. So the quicker we find out where everyone stands the better-- even if they choose to walk away from the President. Not that I think Amy will. She likes a challenge and she likes to win. I think she’s here for the duration. I also think we can count on Lou. Neither of them will care much about the substance of the accusation. Bram and Ryan probably fall in that category too. I’m not sure about Edie-- for her it might depend on whether or not she believes Matt.

I get what Josh is doing right now, trying to limit who hears about it before it breaks, but I think that Matt and Helen need to talk to as many of the staff as they can in-person and as soon as possible. And they are going to have to talk to the Country ASAP-- a written denial is not going to be enough. 

When I arrive at the FLOTUS offices, I take a deep breath before opening the door. I don’t want to mislead my staff. I need to proceed carefully.

Karen looks up as I walk in. She gives me a quick smile that I find instantly reassuring. She doesn’t seem worried. I’ve only been gone about 90 minutes. That’s not unusual. They haven’t been sitting here worried. That’s a good place to start from.

“Hey. Could you gather everyone and join me in my office in about 5 minutes?”

“Sure.” Karen responds brightly, picking up her phone. “Hi, we’re meeting in 5 in Donna’s office.” I hear her say as I shut my office door behind me.

Now I have to figure out what to say when they get here. I don’t really want to defy Josh’s instructions, but I trust my staff. If I tell them what’s coming none of them will leak it. None of them will comment off the record. And most importantly, then none of them will be blindsided when they hear the news tomorrow.

I remember every detail of where I was when I found out that President Bartlet has MS. Toby had called me into his office. He told me that he was about to tell me something shocking, but that he needed me not to be upset. And he reminded me that he was trusting me above others. It made me feel really important, and it made me want to do everything I could to help. I can only imagine how devastated I would have felt if I’d have read about it in the newspaper.

Really, that settles it. I know what I’m going to do.

“Donna?” Ashley asks as she taps lightly on the door jam while opening the door.

“Come on in.” I call out to her.

She heads towards the conference table, but I shake my head, while pointing her towards the couch. Her forehead wrinkles a little but she changes course without saying anything.

Ashley takes one of the wing back chairs, while Karen, Annabeth, and Jessica squeeze together on the couch. I have to admit, I’m really glad Ned’s no longer my responsibility. I’m so glad he’s in Ryan’s office now.

I take the other chair and lean towards them.

“I’m going to tell you something. I need you to hear me out, then if you have any questions, I’ll tell you what I can. I need you to know that you are some of the first people to hear this. I know I can trust all of you not to talk about this after you leave this room. Okay?”

“Of course!” Ashley insists, while the others nod, “what’s going on?”

“A major newspaper is going to publish a story tomorrow accusing President Santos of having an affair with a woman.”

Annabeth gasps and Karen’s eyes start to water. Jessica purses her lips and Ashley’s nostrils flare a bit.

“Listen to me. Matt emphatically denies the allegation. Helen and I just came from the Oval Office. She believes her husband and so do I. This is a fabricated story and we are going to work as quickly as possible to prove it. This is probably going to be what we are doing for a while. Anyone have any questions?”

They sit quietly, processing what I’ve just told them. Then Annabeth speaks up. “Well, I’ve spend enough time with President and Mrs. Santos. I know that they love each other, and I trust them. If they say it’s a lie, I believe them.”

Karen nods. I’m glad for that. But I’m more concerned about Ashley and Jessica. They’ve only been here a few months. Neither of them has spent as much time with the First Family

Jessica is chewing her lip, and appears upset. She has me nervous. She does such a great job writing for Helen. I don’t want to lose her. “What are you thinking?” I ask her softly.

“My Dad cheated on my Mom.” She bites out.

“Oh. I’m really sorry.” I’m not sure what else to say. I want to defend Matt but I’m not sure she’ll hear it. Karen throws an arm around her shoulders and gives her a squeeze. Jessica lets out a long low breath and seems to deflate. I hope that’s a good sign.

I glance over at Ashley, who is sitting pretty stiffly. She’s been a great right hand for me so far, but it’s still very new. She didn’t bond with us over the course of the first campaign or through Lulu’s birth. She’s here to advance her career and she has to be wondering what this scandal will do to that.

Maybe Josh was right. Maybe I shouldn’t have told them yet. 

But I just want them to be part of the team and not be left in the dark.

Maybe I should tell them that.

I glance back at Jessica then lock eyes with Ashley.

“We’re a team. A great team. Helen is facing one of the worst days of her life tomorrow and she needs our help. Can I count on you?”

“What do we need to do?” Jessica sniffles.

“Well, we’re probably going to have to shift from policy to public relations for a little bit but we don’t want to completely lose focus. We are going to have to carefully vet our social media. No room for error in the image we are presenting. But most of all, we need to support Helen and the kids. The West Wing is going to all about the Presidency, which is exactly right for them. But we are going to protect this family.”

“I can do that.” Jessica agrees, sitting back up.

“I’m glad to hear that. Get a good night’s sleep, we’ll have lots to do tomorrow.”

I look back to Ashley She nods stiffly. “You have to admit, ‘Politician has an affair’ isn’t really a stretch. I’m not very interested in going down with a sinking ship. I’d like to hear from Mrs Santos before I make up my mind. But either way, you can count on me to be professional.”

“Okay, well thank you for that. We’ll have our normal staff meeting in the morning and you can talk to her then. Of course it goes without saying that I expect everything we just discussed to stay in this room. There are employees that are being given less information than you all have received. That’s because I trust you. Please do not discuss this with anyone outside of this office.”

“Right, of course.” Annabeth is quick to agree and the others nod their agreement.

“Okay, that’s all for tonight.” 

Everyone stands and starts to file out the door. Just before she leaves I call out to Annabeth.

“Could you stay a minute?”

“Sure.” She shuts the door and walks back to my seating area.

“Well. That didn’t go well, did it?”

“I thought it was fine. Obviously we are all shocked.”

“Yeah, I don’t know what I expected. I just didn’t want you guys to find out from the media. I wanted to tell you myself.”

“Well, I’m glad for that. I’d have been really upset to read about it, and honestly I’d find it hard to believe the denials if I’d found out that way.”

“So do you believe him?”

Annabeth wrinkles her nose and then breathes deeply. “You know what? I do. Part of me thinks I might be naive, but I believe in them.”

“Okay. Whew. I’m glad to hear that. So, we are heading up to the Residence for a strategy session. Josh and I would like to have you in on that if you are willing.”

“Absolutely.”

“Great. And we’ll need to bring Angie into the room too. I don’t want her learning about this on her own.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

. . . . .

When we arrive in the Residence, Annabeth and I walk straight to the East Drawing Room. Unfortunately, we are the first to arrive.

“I hate to do this to you, but can you wait here? I’d like to run upstairs and check in on Lulu.”

“Sure no problem.” Annabeth replies easily, sitting down and opening up her laptop.

A minute later I’m peering into the game room watching Lulu and Nicole snuggled on the couch reading a book. I’m not quite sure what this means. Nicole usually leaves at Five and Peter takes over for an hour or so until Josh or I pick Lulu up. If Nicole’s still here, I’m guessing that Matt and Helen are talking to the kids. Did they tell Nicole what’s going on? Do I need to do that? I wonder if she can stay for a little while longer? Or possibly a lot longer? I have no idea how long this is going to take. And I have no idea if Peter is going to be up for watching Lulu once he hears about the news.

When I open the door Lulu’s auburn head and Nicole’s brunette one turn my way. They both give me bright smiles that make me think that nothing’s been brought to their attention.

“Hi Mama, hi!” Lulu squeals, jumping off Nicole’s lap and running to me. It feels good to swing her up in my arms and snuggle her close.

“Peter’s late, but you’re a little early.” Nicole observes glancing at the clock. 

“Something’s come up. Can you stay longer tonight? We’ll just be downstairs but I don’t know how long we’ll be.”

“Sure. Is everything okay?” She asks cautiously. She knows that if I can tell her what’s going on I do, but oftentimes I can’t.

“Yes. I’ll fill you in before I go. I hope I’m not ruining any plans.”

Nicole laughs. “Ryan and I both work in the White House. We don’t make plans, we figure it out as we go.”

“Well if it’s any consolation, I think he’ll end up downstairs before the night is over, maybe you can leave together.”

Nicole gives me a smile at the thought. We sure did get lucky in the nanny department.

“Okay pumpkin.” I give Lulu another squeeze. “Mama has to go back to work. You and Nikki are going to have dinner in a little bit and Daddy and I will be back as soon as we can.”

“Ah-kay. I want mac-n-cheese.” She easily agrees, knowing that if she’s eating here she can pretty much have whatever she wants.

“Okay, baby. Nicole, I’ll have dinner sent up at 6:30, what would you like?”

“Cobb Salad.”

“Okay, great. Thanks for being so flexible.”

. . . . 

Back downstairs I’m glad to see that Bram and Otto have joined Annabeth. There are still a lot of people missing, but I guess we can get started. And I guess I’m in charge.

“Okay. Bram, Otto, I assume you’ve been fully briefed if you are here?”

“Yeah.” Bram responds, “this is such bullshit. I can’t believe they are running this.”

“When I left Josh’s office, Amy was on her way in and I think they were going to try to talk some sense into the publisher, but you and Annabeth are the ones with the most interaction with the press. Why would they run this once we deny it?”

Bram rakes a hand through his hair. He’d better be careful or he’s going to end up like Josh. 

“They must believe they have solid sources. Seriously rock solid because they have to know that I’m pulling their press passes as soon as this runs tomorrow. And then, . . .”

“No.” Annabeth cuts in. “You can’t pull their passes.”

“Wanna watch me?”

She sighs. “I know that you can. But you shouldn’t. The last thing we need is for everyone else to use the process story about how we pulled the Chronicles credentials as an excuse to write about the accusations without making them directly.”

Bram rolls his eyes but nods, recognizing that she’s right. Annabeth goes on. “In fact, we have to take every question they or any one else wants to ask, no skirting around it, eventually they’ll get tired of asking.”

“I don’t know about that.” Bram responds, “AND, how am I going to be able answer them? How can I prove a negative?”

“My guess is piece by painstaking piece.” Annabeth replies, “but we won’t know until we know what they are saying. Any idea when that will be, Donna?”

“I don’t know. Hopefully if they can’t slow down publication at least they’ll get more details about what the story will be, and Josh will be able to answer that when he gets here.” 

I look at the three of them for a few seconds. I’m not really sure what to do now, but I want to do something. “So, any idea where Sam and Lou are?”

“After they told us, they were going to pull together all the communications and operations staff for a quick meeting.” Bram looks at his watch. “They might be done by now. Sam said they weren’t going to tell them exactly what was coming just that there was a chance that a major false news story was about to break.”

“He told us to come up here and help with a statement.” Otto adds.

“Yeah. But since we don’t have the details about exactly what they are running, let’s talk big picture first. What do we need to start thinking about?” I hope they’ll jump in with ideas.

“Press Briefings.” Bram reiterates.

“Speeches.” Otto throws in.

“A Live Prime Time explanation.” Annabeth offers. I think she’s right.

“Yeah, but what does that look like?”

“One of the big new magazines. Female interviewer. Not here in the Residence, but not in their studios. Maybe a hotel in New York?” Annabeth continues thinking aloud. “I’d say do it at their home in Houston but I don’t think we want it to look like they’ve retreated back there. Then Mrs. Santo needs to go on some morning talk shows too. Then they have to get back on the campaign trail, but more joint events. We need lots of pictures of them together, probably something with the kids too.”

While Annabeth is talking, Josh and Amy slip into the room quietly. Neither of them looks very happy, but they don’t look angry either. 

“That sounds like the right track.” Josh agrees as soon as Annabeth is finished. “We’ll talk more about that in a bit. Amy is going to fill you in on our call with the Publisher while Donna and I go talk to the First Family. Then we’ll all sit down and finalize a statement. We have a deadline, so let’s stay focused.”

Josh stretches his hand out toward me subtly. I’m not even sure he’s aware of the movement. But I take it and give it a quick squeeze. We’re in this together.


	37. This what the rest of the campaign is going to be about

“Josh, you fell asleep out here. Come to bed.” Donna’s voice and soft hand stroking my face make the effort of opening my eyes worthwhile. When I do she’s right in front of me, bending down with a concerned look on her face while giving me a fantastic view of her cleavage.

My head pounds as I try to clear the cobwebs. I’m almost a hundred percent sure this is real. But if it’s not, it’s not the first time I’ve had this dream.

I let my eyes shift over to the coffee table. The yellow notepad with a list of names isn’t as helpful in assessing reality as I’d like it to be.

Donna laughs at me. A deep, throaty chuckle. Then she grabs my arm and pulls me up into a sitting position. Fantasy Donna wouldn’t do that. Fantasy Donna would have gone down on me.

“Come on, Josh.” She insists, pulling me up to my feet. “Your brain is working so hard I can practically see the smoke coming out of your ears. You need some sleep. And our bed is much more comfortable.”

Our bed. That’s right. This  _ is _ reality. And it’s much better than my fantasies.

. . . . .

When I wake up again I’m in my bed with my wife in my arms. For two whole minutes the world feels right. But then I remember that my well honed campaign to re-elect the President has been thrown a huge curveball and it’s my job to knock it out of the park.

I really, really don’t want to let Donna go, but I need to get up and check the news. The morning paper may have already hit the stands and I’m sure the major news outlets will discover the story any minute. This is going to be bad.

Reluctantly, I let go of Donna and slid out from under her. Back in the den, I turn the TV on low so I don’t disturb my girls, then I go back to the list of people I need to call today. It’s going to be a long day.

Sure enough, near the end of the 6 am hour, Erica Hill breaks into the segment to announce breaking news.

“This just in. The Western States Chronicle is reporting that President Matthew Santos has had a years long affair. This news comes as polls have been running neck and neck all summer. The West Wing denies the story. We’ll have more soon.”

As soon as the segment ends, our phones start ringing. It’s going to be like this all day.

Ignoring the home phone, and hoping it doesn’t wake up Lulu, I pick up my cell. It’s Bram.

“Yeah?”

“I’ve got a copy.”

“And?”

“Front page. Big photo of him with his arm wrapped around her. Both grinning. They’ve got a sidebar with dates and locations.”

“What about our denial?”

“They printed it in full, but on the ‘continued’ page.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. I’ll be in shortly.”

My phone’s vibrating with another incoming call as I hang up with Bram, and the home phone starts ringing again too. I stand up to grab it, but it cuts off midway through the second ring and I hear Donna answer it in the bedroom.

Somedays I hate dragging her into this mess.

As I’m about to answer my cell, Lulu calls out from her bedroom.

“Da-dee!!”

Well. She takes priority over Amy.

On my way to Lulu’s bedroom, I flip the phone open. “I’ll call you back in 15.” I state as a greeting, then immediately hang up before Amy can try to finagle her way into a conversation.

Lulu is standing in her crib, clutching the new bear that the Bartlets sent her last week. I don’t know how many teddy bears one child needs, and apparently neither do any of her grandparents, given the amount of them we now own, but in moments like this, I understand the desire to hold something warm and fuzzy.

“Good morning, Princess!”

“Hi Daddy, hi!” 

I lift her out of bed and engage in a quick snuggle before I set her down so she can run to the bathroom. I think we need to think about moving her to a bed. But it feels like such a grown up thing to do to her. And I sleep easier knowing that she’s secure. I don’t want her to wake up and wander around the apartment.

While Lulu takes care of her bathroom needs, I move to the kitchen to get some cereal out for her breakfast. From here, I can hear part of Donna’s conversation in the bedroom.

“Yes. I understand your concerns but I’m telling you . . . “

“I hear what you are saying, but . . .”

“Listen. President Santos unequivocally denies the allegation, and I stand by him.”

“No, I haven’t actually read the article yet myself, but I have had discussions with both the President and Mrs. Santos and I can assure you . . .”

“Okay, yes. I’ll have him call you once we are in the office.”

A few minutes later she joins me in the kitchen, blurry eyed and beautiful.

“It’s going to be one of those days, isn’t it?” She asks as she crosses the room to envelop me in a hug.

“Yeah. Who was that?”

“The Speaker’s COS.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me?!? He called our HOUSE?!”

“Take a deep breath, babe.” She instructs me, rubbing my back. Oh. I see, the hug was preemptive. Smart woman. But I obey, drawing a deep breath through my nose.

“Okay. But seriously? He called our house before 7 in the morning. That's not okay. He woke our baby up.”

Donna laughs lightly. “He didn’t wake her up, Josh. If she was still asleep, she would have slept through the phone. Our phones ring all the time.”

I hate it when she’s right, but I still want to be pissed about this.

Donna laughs again. “I know what you’re thinking.” She chides me, “you want someone to be mad at. Just remember we need all the friends we can get right now.”

Damn. She’s right again.

. . . . . . 

By lunchtime I have plenty of people to be mad at. My staff and I spent the entire morning soothing angry Democrats and ignoring angry Republicans. Bram manages the questions from the PressRoom, while Amy handles the hoard that follows the campaign.

We’re playing defense and I don’t like it. 

I don’t have time for lunch but I need a break. Margaret doesn’t look surprised when I rip open the door and storm out.

As I stride by her desk she holds up a brown bag.

“Here.” She instructs, adding “give Lulu a hug from me, and eat something while you’re up there.” 

“Thanks Margaret.” I call over my shoulder as I head into the hallway, digging into the bag as I go. I actually am a bit hungry. There’s some sort of sandwich, a bag of carrots, and an apple. Between Margaret and my wife I really have no choice but to be healthy.

I finish the apple just as I hit the landing on the third floor, so I toss the core into the waste bin as I open the door.

“Hi Daddy! Hi!” Lulu chortles, delighted to see me.

“Hi baby girl. Are you having lunch?”

“Uh huh.” She nods, taking a big bite of her sandwich.

I sit down next to Lulu and run my hand through her curls. She preens a little under my touch, just like her mother does. It’s exactly what I need and I feel my blood pressure lowering as I stroke her head.

“You eat too, Daddy.” She demands, pointing at my bag. God bless Margaret.

I dump the rest of my food on the table and unwrap the sandwich. Turkey with cheese, lettuce and tomato on wheat. Definitely not my first choice but it’s not bad, especially when my daughter beams at me as I take a bite.

“So what did you do this morning?” I ask before taking another bite.

“We played.” She answers vaguely, but I can guess it involved dolls, puzzles, or babies. Those are her favorites.

“And . . .” Nicole prompts, but Lulu just looks at her. “We did some worksheets, remember?”

“Triangles!” Lulu shouts.

Nicole laughs. “Yes, Triangles. And what letters did we work on?”

“D says duh, duh, duh.” Lulu promptly answers. “D for dolly. D for doggie. D for door.” While she looks around the room for more d-words, Nicole gets up and gets a piece of paper and brings it back to me.

It’s got a line up of sloppy upper and lower case “d”s on it. The top row of each are traced but the bottoms look freehand.

“Lulu did these?” 

“Yes, she did.” Nicole beams at me. 

I’m amazed. “These are pretty good!” She’s not even three yet.

“They really are, Josh. And look at her name.”

Sure enough across the top, Lulu is scrawled in oversized letters. “She wrote her own name?”

“Yes, this is the first time she wrote it from memory.”

“Wow.” I turn to Lulu and show her the paper. “You did this?”

“L-u-l-u” Lulu calls out pointing to her letters. “That’s me.”

“It sure is. Good job baby girl. You’re doing so good.”

This was exactly what I needed. A reminder that no matter what happens at work, I’ve still got a life. A good one.

“I gotta go back to work.” I tell Lulu and Nicole, standing up as soon as I finish my sandwich. 

My baby pouts a bit, giving me a little Donna look. Ugh. I’d rather stay here, but it’s just not possible. I gotta make the world better for her. And that means getting Matt re-elected.

I bend down and give the top of her head a kiss. “Be good for Nikki and paint me a picture, okay?”

“Okay, Daddy.”

. . . . . . . . . 

Just after four o’clock, Donna and Annabeth file into my office. Since it’s just the three of us I pull Donna in for a quick kiss and feel a little bit of the tension leave my body. I probably could have reduced the amount of blood pressure medication I was taking during the Bartlet Administration if only I’d been allowed to kiss Donna at work back then.

“Hey baby.” She greets me gently, resting in my arms a moment. When I let her go it hits me how stressed and tired she looks. I need to book a vacation for us when this is over.

Annabeth makes herself comfortable, looking at some paperwork while she waits out our little display. One of the things I like best about Annabeth is that she just rolls with whatever. Unfortunately, we really do have to get to work. Reluctantly, I let Donna go and we join her at the table.

“Okay. What have you guys got?”

“Connie Chung tomorrow night, then 60 Minutes on Sunday. Oprah next week.” Annabeth informs me.

“Connie’s going to hit the news angle, primarily Q&A.” Donna adds. ”60 Minutes will be more of a story. We need to try to give them a narrative that works for us. But at least they will let Matt and Helen tell their side of the story. And Oprah, well, we'll see what we need by then, it might be just Helen and the kids.” 

“Mrs. Santos is on board with all of these?”

“Yes. Whatever it takes.” Donna insists, a little fiercely. “She’s ready to fight.”

“But the kids?” This is the part I”m not sure about. I didn’t understand it when we we’re on the first campaign. I’m embarrassed to say I used them as props. But now I have a kid of my own. And now I know Peter and Miranda. And I worry about what this is going to do to them.

“Yeah, we aren’t excited about it. But people are going to wonder how they are taking the scandal. And the best weapon we have is to show a healthy, happy family to the public. The more they see of that, the less likely they are to believe the lie. And let’s be realistic, Oprah is going to be a great format for that.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

The girls recognize that we’re done with the topic, and stand up to leave. As I move towards my desk, Donna turns to Annabeth.

“Go on without me, I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“I’m going to check in with Bram, I’ll meet you back upstairs later.”

“Okay.”

After the door closes, Donna studies me for a few minutes. I recognize it as a sign that she’s evaluating how to tell me something.

“Uh oh. What now?”

“I talked to my Dad today.”

Shit. “You okay?”

She gives me a little smile. “Yeah, surprisingly.”

“How bad was it?”

“Actually, I don’t know. They saw it on the afternoon news. Dad said that the news used the word alleged A LOT. And he said that the news said that the President denied it. It sounds like it might actually have been pretty neutral.”

“How’d your parents react?”

“I didn’t talk to my Mom.”

“Probably a good idea.”

“Yeah, Dad said she was ranting about another scandal, but from the sounds of it, they aren’t automatically assuming that he did it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Maybe it’s just because they’ve gotten to know the Santos family, but, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, it seems like they are keeping an open mind. Dad wanted to check in with me to see how we’re doing.”

“Wow.”

“I know.”

“Maybe we’ve still got a chance at this thing.”

“When will Joey have numbers for us?”

“Around 8. They are doing some polling this afternoon, but she doesn’t want to give us numbers based on the middle of the day soap opera crowd.”

Donna laughs a little. “Not expecting a good result from that demographic?”

“No, not really.”

“I talked to your Mom too.”

“Ugh. I shoulda called her.”

“It’s okay, Josh, she understands. She’s flying up tonight.”

“Why?”

“I thought it would be a good idea. I’m going to New York for the interview tomorrow. I don’t know what you’re doing. But I suspect we are going to be working a lot, and we can only expect so much from Nicole. Your Mom can help us out in the evenings.”

“Yeah, that was a good idea. Thanks for being so smart.”

“Any time. I’m going to head back to my office. You good?”

“With you by my side, I’m fantastic.”

. . . . . . . . . . . 

8 O’clock finds a group of us gathering in our newly created war room on the third floor of the Residence. It’s nicer than the basement room we used during the Bartlet administration. I’m wondering why we didn’t do this back then.

Probably because my wife wasn’t in charge.

While we’re waiting for Joey, Bram, Otto and Sam are filling plates from the buffet against the wall. I need to find out who to thank for that. Lou, Edie and Amy are huddled together at one end of the conference table, probably talking about messaging, hoping to figure out something that will work for us.

All heads turn when Matt and Helen enter the room and I sit back to watch how the staff interact with them now that we’ve all had 24 hours to process this.

“Sir, Ma’am. How are you this evening?” Sam asks, breaking the ice.

“Oh, it’s been an interesting day, Sam!” Helen laughs. At her laughter, the mood in the room lightens a little. It’s a good reminder that no matter how we are feeling as a staff, this is happening to them. And if they can keep their spirits up, the rest of us need to as well.

“What’s to eat?” Matt asks, moving towards the food.

Helen pours a glass of water then sits down next to the ladies. Meanwhile, I’m still watching for Donna to get back from picking Mom up and taking her and Lulu home.

Finally, the phone in the center of the table rings and the room falls silent.

I reach out and hit the button. “Josh Lyman.”

“Hi Josh,” Kenny’s voice greets me, “I’ve got some preliminary numbers for you.”

“Hi Joey. Hi Kenny. President and Mrs. Santos are in the room, along with Amy and Senior staff.”

“Great. Because this is what the rest of the campaign is going to be about.”


	38. The Earth is rotating rapidly on its Axis

This is hard. A lot harder than I thought it would be. When the tabloids lied about Josh and Amy, it sucked, but it only lasted a few weeks, and didn’t go beyond the U.S. This lie about Matt has a life of its own and the whole world is tuned in.

Over the last four weeks I’ve watched Helen go through every emotion. Anger over the accusations against her husband. Worry about how it’s affecting her children, crying as she wonders if she should take them out of their schools or if that will make the pressure worse. Caution over every word and action we take due to the constant scrutiny and speculation about her position in all this.

But I’ve seen their family grow stronger. I’ve watched Peter stand tall, pitching in to help however he can, and reassuring his parents that he loves them and trusts them. It’s quite remarkable from a teenager. I have to confess, I really hope this thing with Carly works out so that our families are tied together forever. Miranda seems sweeter and quieter, watching her parents carefully, and jumping in with hugs and kisses, and funny little remarks at just the right moment.

And I couldn’t be prouder of Matt. In public he embodies the Presidency. Steadfastly doing his job, while also patiently denying every accusation that is thrown his way. Behind the scenes he’s not diminished either. He regularly thanks his staff for their service and reminds us that we’ve all been called to the greater good. And in private, he holds his wife a few extra minutes and watches her with obvious love and admiration.

The best thing I’ve seen has been Helen’s laughter. From light chuckles to deep full belly guffaws depending on how tickling she finds the latest outrageous allegation. Our polling numbers got a little jolt when she laughed, a real joyous laugh, during a live interview when a reporter suggested that she was just “standing by her man” because she’s as addicted to the power as he is. 

When it happened I was afraid it would hurt us, but at the same time I was excited to see the moment when the switch flipped for Helen. I could just tell that right then she realized that the worst case scenario just meant she got to go home to Houston four years earlier. I have no doubt she wants to win. But losing won’t be that much of a punishment for trying to do the right thing.

The host smiled too and gave a quick laugh, then Helen took a breath and explained that they were just trying to change the world, and that two years of free community college would provide opportunities for a whole generation. She was brilliant.

One thing I haven’t seen this entire time is any waver in her complete, absolute trust in Matt. Even when the old rumors were recycled. Even when they went back to calling him Hurricane Santos. Even when reporters revisit the question of Sophia’s parentage. Even when the tabloids jump the shark and suggest that maybe Miranda isn’t even hers.

No matter what they throw at her, she and Matt are a team.

We’ve done Dateline, and 60 Minutes, and Oprah, and 20/20 and MorningJoe. We’ve sat down with every evening news anchor and every networks’ morning program.

I don’t know, maybe we’re feeding the beast too much for this thing to go away.

But the polling tells us that this really is what the election is about now.

It’s a virtual tie when, as the incumbent with a good record, Matt should be miles ahead. It’s so rare for the incumbent to lose, I can’t help but wonder what it will do to Josh if that happens. 

He’ll totally blame himself, even though it’s not his fault. He couldn’t have seen this coming and even if he did, what could he do about it?

That’s part of the problem too. For almost a month Josh has been frantically trying to figure out how to solve this. He’s left Amy and Lou to run the campaign, although he’s still a part of every strategy meeting. And he’s still fulfilling all his duties as Chief of Staff, with Sam helping to carry that load, thank god. But between all that he’s spending every spare moment trying to think of the missing piece of the puzzle. Even though he knows deep down that he’s not going to find the needle in the haystack just by thinking about it. 

That’s why he’s got investigators looking for any shred of evidence that will unravel this web of lies. How can it be so hard to prove the truth?

Every day that goes by without anything more than Matt and Helen’s firm denials, more people believe that they are just typical, lying cheating politicians.

And in spite of their generally good attitudes, I know that’s got to be killing them. They aren’t those people. They’ve tried so hard to be a new breed of public servant. To truly represent the average American, who comes from the working class and who didn’t go to Ivy League schools.

Matt wanted this campaign to be about what he’s done in the last four years, and what he is going to do to make this a better America, and a better world, for all of us. He didn’t want it to be a referendum on his personal life or his integrity or his wife’s loyalty. But here we are.

So every moment that we’re out here, we’re battling for a chance to talk about our accomplishments and our agenda. About the things that matter. And every day, we have to answer the questions--

“If the story is a lie why can’t you prove it? Why haven’t you sued the Newspaper for libel? Why haven’t you sued Susan Rodriegez for defamation?”

Those questions roll through my mind every night as I try to sleep in a strange bed in another hotel. 

They roll through my mind even as I wonder if Lulu is going to remember how much time I’ve been away this month.

They roll through my mind as I glance at the clock and wonder if Josh is still up at 2:37 too.

. . . . . .

“Good morning, Donna!” Helen greets me happily as I walk into the sitting room of her suite. 

This is the last day of this tour and it’s nice to see that she’s still in a in a good mood. It makes everything a little easier.

“Good morning. Ready to go over today’s details?” I ask as I pour myself some coffee and take a seat.

“Yes, as long as the agenda still ends with us home in our own beds tonight.” She quips.

“You know it.” I couldn’t agree more. I need some time at home. I need to be held by my husband. I need to play with my daughter. I need to eat food made in my own kitchen.

“Where are we again?” She jokes half-heartedly. “Michigan?”

“Actually, no.” 

Helen laughs and wrinkles up her nose. “Was I close?”

“Yes. We flew into Selfridge Air National Guard base yesterday. We did that event in Dearborn, then we drove to Toledo.”

“It’s coming back to me.”

“That’s just across the border, in Ohio. We had that photo op. Then we drove to Cleveland. We’re meeting grassroots organizations at the Cuyahoga Community College Rec Center in an hour. Talk up Matt’s plan for free community college and pump them up to go get out the vote. Then it’s 2 hours on the bus to Pittsburgh. There we have a symposium on environmental issues and manufacturing. That’ll be a hootenanny.”

“A hootenanny, Donna? Really?” 

“Yes, ma’am.” I give her a little sass, earning a quick smile along with a raised eyebrow. “We’ll probably make a quick stop in Youngstown on the way, an unscheduled meet and greet.”

“Okay.”

“After the symposium, we’ll head to Philadelphia where you’re speaking at the Constitution Center commemorating the 19th amendment.”

“Am I wearing a “Votes for Women” sash or a yellow rose?”

“No, you are not. I considered a yellow suit, but honestly, you don’t look good in yellow.”

“DONNA!”

“I don’t look good in yellow either. The curse of being blonde. It’s really a shame, because it’s a nice sunny color. Good vibes with yellow clothes, but not if it makes you look jaundiced.”

“Donna.”

“Yeah?”

“You got a little off track there.”

“Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine. I want a cheese steak.”

“Right now?”

“No, but tonight in Philadelphia.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes. I have a bet with Matt.”

“You have a bet with Matt?”

‘Yes.”

“Do I want to know?”

Her face morphs into a half smirk. “Probably not.”

“Okay then, your wish is my command, but we should probably get going.”

“Okay.”

As she’s putting her suit jacket on, I shake my head. I really don’t want to know, but I wish there was a way that I could let America see what I see. If they could just see this couple behind the scenes, they see that they are so in love. There is no way Matt cheated on her.

. . . . . .

It’s after midnight when I slip through the front door. I’m sure Josh is still awake, but Sylvia and Lulu should be sound asleep. Dropping my garment bag silently and slipping my shoes off so that I can pad through the house quietly, I make my way straight to our bedroom.

Josh is in bed squinting intently at his laptop. I really need to get him into the opthamologist. I think he needs glasses. A second later his brow furrows, then he jots something down on a legal pad. I bet anything he’s trying to unravel the scandal. He’s desperate to clear Matt’s good name.

“Hey.” I whisper, trying not to startle him.

“Oh! Thank god you’re home!” His face breaks into a giant grin as he shifts the laptop to the side and leaps out of the bed, scattering papers in his wake. “I’ve missed you so much!”

He pulls me close to him, planting a kiss on my mouth before wrapping his arms tightly around me.

I drop my head to his shoulder and just rest a moment, enjoying the feeling of being enveloped in him. Most of the time when we reunite without an audience there’s an explosion of passionate fireworks, but right now I need this feeling of security more. 

As I let out a shuddering breath, he squeezes me a little tighter. “You alright?” 

I can hear the concern in his question.

“Yeah. It was just a long few days. I didn’t realize how much I needed you to hold me like this until just now.”

“Okay.”

We stand in silence for a few minutes before I pull away.

“I thought campaigning was going to be more fun this time, you know? Like how much fun we had on Jed’s first campaign, except better because this time we could have sex!”

He smirks and chuckles. “Yeah, I was looking forward to that too.”

“I mean, the primary trip to California was fun, but that feels like a million years ago!”

“It was only a couple months ago.” Josh responds before taking my face in his hands and kissing me deeply. When he stops his eyes are smoldering. “I think it started something like that, right?”

He doesn’t give me a chance to answer before he kisses me again, this time his hands push my jacket off my shoulders before starting on the buttons of my blouse. 

“And I think you were wearing less clothing,” he murmurs when he comes up for air.

“I was wearing a cocktail dress.”

“Not once we got back to the room. Once we got back to the room, I got you naked as quickly as possible.” He insists, slipping the shirt down my arms and letting it fall to the floor. Then he skims back up my sides and cups my breasts, his thumbs rubbing my nipples through the lace of my bra.

My head starts to spin. God, I want him so much.

“Should I do that again?” He whispers hotly into my ear as he traces the shell of it with his tongue. “Should I get you naked as quickly as possible and we can pretend this is a hotel room?”

But before I can answer, his hands are working at the hooks at my back, unfastening the band and pulling at the straps, even while his mouth is nibbling his way down my neck. 

My heart is beating rapidly as his fingers twist and roll my nipples, shooting sparks straight to my core. Josh sucks on the pulse point next to my collar bone as I tremble.

“Is this what you want, Donna?” He rumbles lowly as his hands slide down to the waistband of my slacks.

All I can do is whine helplessly, “Yes,  _ Josh _ , please.”

. . . . . . 

Waking up in my own bed feels terrific. I’m a little disappointed but not completely surprised that Josh isn’t in bed with me. Last night was a fantastic welcome home. I don’t need to have him still next to me to know that he missed me. And I’ve known for a long time that he just doesn’t need as much sleep as I do.

Sure enough, when I make my way out into the living room, I find him at the dining table working away.

“Morning.” I whisper leaning down to kiss him. He pulls me into his lap, so I wiggle my backside against his groin a little just to hear him hiss.

“You’re evil.” He quickly informs me.

“Come back to bed and I’ll show you just how bad I can be.”

He groans. “I’d love that except for the fact that my Mother is probably just about done in the shower and our daughter is going to wake up any minute.”

“Saboteurs!” I jest, just as Sylvia enters the room.

“Donna! You’re home!” She greets me happily. I’m not embarrassed to have her find me on Josh’s lap in my pajamas, but I hope she didn’t hear me accusing her of invading our privacy, I was just kidding and I wouldn’t want to hurt her feelings.

“That’s  _ got _ to be it.” Josh insists, going back to his work. “I just have to figure this out.”

“What are you going on about, dear?” Sylvia asks him as she gives me a quick hug. 

“I’m going to make us all a nice breakfast.” She continues without expecting a response from Josh, who is completely focused on his computer.

“What is that?” I inquire, noticing the spreadsheet he has open on the screen.

“Data. We are cross checking each of the dates of each of the alleged rendezvous with everyone on the trip, and everyone who had access to itineraries in advance, and everyone involved with how guest lists were compiled, and of course everyone on the guest lists, everything we can possibly think of, looking for some pattern or something to unlock this.”

“I thought you were leaving this to the private investigators?”

“They  _ are _ investigating. They’re the ones who put this together- but we don’t have enough time for me to sit by and wait! If I can at least point them in the right direction maybe they’ll be able to find something. It’s like you just said-- I know it’s sabotage. I just have to prove it!”

By the time he’s done with his rant his voice is high and his eyes are frantic. This is how he gets when I’m away. But I’m here now and I’m not going to let him take this on alone. I rub his arm gently and I can see him relax a little.

“Okay what have you got?”

“I’ve got nothing!” He whines but less forcefully. Then he takes a deep breath, rubbing his hands through his hair in frustration.

I quickly smooth it back down. “Not true. You’ve got data, and you’ve got an incredible brain. Something is going to come to you. I have faith in you and I’ll help you.”

He meets my eyes and gives me a tentative smile. “Thanks. I’m always better with you.”

“Da-dee!! Bubbe!!!” Lulu calls from her room, breaking our moment.

“Go on.” Josh tells me, pushing me off his lap. “She’ll be so excited to see you.”

I’m so ready to see her too. When I open her door and peek inside, Lulu’s face lights up.

“Mama! Mama! Mama!” Her voice gets increasingly louder and higher, just like her Daddy.

“Hi pumpkin!”

“Mama you home!” Lulu bounces in her crib until I lift her out and then she clings to me. Ah. Now I feel complete. As good as this moment feels, it’s also a bit bittersweet. I love my work. And I love coming home to this kind of welcome. But is it fair to her? I hope when she’s older she understands.

After a full minute Lulu squirms to get down. “Potty, Mama.”

“Right.” I put her on her feet and she runs out of the room. While she’s gone, I glance around the room and notice that the outfit I ordered a few days ago is hanging in the closet. The argyle sweater dress will be perfect for today, plus the owl barrettes have matching undies. Lulu will love it. I’m glad Josh left it for me to put on her for the first time. I really do love dressing her up.

“Good Morning, Daddy!” I hear Lulu yell as she runs from the bathroom through the living room to the kitchen. “Bubbe! I’m hungry!”

Leaving the clothes for after breakfast, I rejoin Josh at the table where he’s furiously writing something on a legal pad.

“How’s it going?”

“ The Earth is rotating rapidly on its  axis.”


	39. Birthday Wishes

It’s nice out here. 60 degrees. The leaves are golden. A lady and a couple kids are walking down the sidewalk towards the gardens. I wonder who she’s voting for.

My stomach is in knots. I really hope I’m not getting an ulcer. I’m being really careful about my health. I want to have a long healthy life with my family.

I feel far better than I did during the last campaign, but still, this is stressful and there are moments, like this one, sitting waiting for a meeting with Joe Quincy, who called and wanted to meet away from the White House, where I can feel the anxiety rising, and I have to stop and decide how this is going to affect me.

A covert meeting is exactly the type of thing that could shoot my blood pressure 20 points. But it’s not worth it. This is important. But it’s not everything. 

So I go back to trying to enjoy the fresh air and appreciating the beauty around me.

I spot him striding towards me a few minutes later. He’s smiling. 

“Josh! Good to see you.” I grabs my hand and pumps it while pulling me into a weird half armed man hug.

“Please tell me you have good news for me.”

“I have good news for you.” He grins, pausing for effect. Doesn’t he know that I’m a man on the edge, here?

“Well?”

“We got it.” 

“Tell me.”

“You were right to look in your own backyard. Once you narrowed down the list of people who had advance access to the President’s schedule, we were able to find the patterns.”

“Who was it?”

“A guy in advance was being paid by a dark money PAC to provide information about the President’s travel schedule and details about the President’s itinerary.”

“Ron’s going to go ballistic. This is a complete breakdown in security. My god. I don’t understand how they could have missed someone who was compromised.”

“Well, I can’t go into that, but I can tell you what we know.”

“Sorry, please do.”

“On the surface this guy looks good. He wasn’t very politically active in college until his last semester. His degree is actually in hospitality and logistics. He was qualified for the job. And from what we can tell he did a good job.”

“What the hell, Joe?”

“A guy he knew in college suggested that working on a campaign would be a good way to get some job experience. When he showed some interest, they approached him with the idea. If he could get onto the campaign, they’d give him a bonus, then pay him for information. His father is very sick. The money is going towards his care.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t care. And who is THEY? And how do you know this?”

“Forensic accounting let us trace the money. Once we had that we confronted our guy.”

“He confessed?”

“Yes. He was relieved to get it out. Turns out now that he’s been working with President Santos he really likes him. He feels really guilty that the information he gave helped create a total lie.”

“HE SHOULD!” I can’t help but shout a bit at Joe, but like always he’s pretty unflappable. “So who else is responsible. He didn’t do this on his own.”

“The PAC seems to have a strong connection to Morgan Mitchell.”

“Can we prove this?”

“We’re working on it. The friend that pushed our guy into politics is currently working on the Sullivan/Mitchell campaign. He’s the link. We’ll turn this all over to the FBI and they’ll investigate. Our guy might be able to get a plea deal. He says he’ll cooperate. And if they can flip either the woman or the link to Mitchell’s campaign, maybe they’ll be able to make the case.”

“That doesn’t help us right now. The FBI won’t announce an investigation this close to the election, and there is no way they’d be done in time to bring charges.”

“Nope.”

“We need the woman to recant. And we need her to do it publically.”

“We don’t have any leverage with her. We haven’t found the payment to her. Assuming there is one, it’s been better hidden and she hasn’t had any major lifestyle changes or spending. It’s probably sitting in an account somewhere until after the election. And we can’t hold the possibility of prosecution over her when we can’t dangle a plea agreement. Any decent lawyer would tell her not to talk to anyone that can’t offer her that.”

“So we have to hope that someone can get her to talk before she gets a decent lawyer.”

“What are you thinking?

“I think we’re not the only ones investigating and some of the other people investigating don’t have the same constraints we do.”

“Josh?”

“You don’t think that every major newspaper isn’t trying to figure out if there is an even bigger story? As soon as they have enough evidence they won’t hesitate to publish it before the election.”

“You want to leak what we know to a news outlet?”

“I don’t think I’d better admit to that.”

“I’m your lawyer, Josh.”

“Well, then, tell me, is it illegal for me to tell a reporter that the FBI is launching an investigation?”

. . . . . . 

As we stride down the hall towards the auditorium, Helen is trying to pump Matt up. 

“You are going to be great.”

“I don't feel great.”

“You’ve been through worse stuff than this.” She reminds him.

“Worse than going head to head with a skilled debater on domestic issues while the country thinks that I’m a serial fornicator?”

“Yes.”

“Like?”

“Combat.”

“I’m pretty sure I should get hazard pay for this. . . . Josh?”

“Yeah?”

“Does this qualify for hazard pay?”

“I’ll have to check.”

Helen gives Matt a quick kiss and then wipes off the lipstick before she’s escorted to her seat. But I stay backstage with Matt, waiting for the moderator to get settled in place.

“How many times do you think Sullivan will be able to insinuate that I can’t keep it in my pants?” Matt asks wryly.

“I’ve got 4 in the pool.”

That gets a laugh out of him and he’s smiling as he steps out onto the stage. Helen shoots me a grateful look from her seat. We’ve done all we can, the rest is up to him.

Forrest Sawyer explains the debate rules and I breathe a sigh of relief that Sullivan doesn’t take a page from Vinick’s book on a last minute rule change. And then we’re off to the races.

“Congressman Santos, the first question is for you. Throughout your last campaign, you said that you want to be known as the Education President. In fact you staked your Presidency on it. You said, and I quote: if in four years from now, you don't think I've improved public education in this country then do not vote for my reelection, unquote. So have you earned the vote of the American people? ”

“Yes, Sawyer. I have worked hard every day to improve our public schools. We’ve enacted legislation to level the playing field and we’ve seen an increased participation in Advanced Placement and International Baccalaureate courses across the country. We’ve seen measurable results from our summer school pilot program and more children are enrolled in preschools than ever before. We helped close the gap between Beverly Hills High and Harlem High.”

Matt directly into the camera and his tone changes-- “We’ve made a lot of progress, but I’m just getting started and we’ve got a long way to go, so I need your vote.”

The audience applauds wildly.

Thank God for the coin toss, and thank God for Forrest Sawyer.

. . . . . . 

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY DADDY!!!” 

Lulu bursts into the room and jumps onto the bed.

I act like I’m surprised, but I knew this was going to happen the minute that Donna got up to get Lulu this morning, telling me to stay in bed and act like I was sleeping instead of reading a briefing memo.

Donna knows that I don’t really like to make a big deal about my birthday. But as she always likes to tell me, “ Your birthday's not for you, it's for the rest of us.”

Which is why Mom and Lulu are with us on the campaign trail and Lulu is bouncing on my stomach shoving a gift bag in my face.

Donna already gave me my present, slipping into a very sexy outfit as we went to bed and telling me that I could unwrap it once it was my birthday. Needless to say, we celebrated at 12:01.

Hotel sex is a very good upside to getting older.

Lulu’s eyes are sparkling as I pull the tissue paper out of the bag. “It’s for coffee!” She squeals as I pull a mug out of the bag.

“Thank you honey, this is wonderful!” I assure her as I look it over. Either Donna or Nicole took some of Lulu’s art and had it print on the mug. I love it. I’ve become the guy I used to roll my eyes at and I don’t care.

“I made that for you.” She points at the picture.

“You did a great job. Thank you.” I pull her in for a hug and snuggle her until she’s ready to get down.

“Breakfast time, Daddy.” She informs me seriously.

“Okay, baby.” 

I’m glad that Donna gave me a warning so I could pull on pajama pants and a t-shirt before my birthday surprise. This way I can follow Lulu out into the living room without getting dressed first.

“Happy Birthday, Joshua.” Mom greets me with a quick peck on the cheek.

“Thanks, Ma.” 

As soon as I sit down at the table, Donna pours some coffee into my new mug. There’s a platter with muffins and bagels on the table. That’s a nice touch. Donna’s never quite let me get over that little boast. There is also a bowl of fruit and several containers of yogurt because she wants to keep me healthy.

“What kind do you want?” I ask Lulu, who quickly glances over at Bubbe.

“You first Daddy.” She answers dutifully, clearly she’s been coached.

“Mmmmm, I can’t decide. Can you help me?”

She wrinkles up her nose. “Booberry?” she suggests. 

“Good idea. What are you going to have?”

“Chocolate?” She looks hopefully at Donna who also wrinkles her nose adorably. God I love these two.

“Half.” Donna concedes, “but you also need to eat some yogurt and fruit.”

“Yes, Mama.” Lulu agrees quickly.

Mom splits the muffin for Lulu, then takes a bagel for herself, while Donna puts some fruit on her plate. I hold my plate out for Donna to give me a scoop too. This is my life now.

. . . . . . 

“Happy Birthday, Josh.” Helen greets me as we join them in their suite. At my groan, she raises an eyebrow.

“Thank you, Ma’am.” I quickly amend, earning an outright laugh from her.

“You’re right, Donna, he’s insufferable.”

Donna smirks and shrugs when I shoot her a look. Traitor. I shouldn’t be surprised. I usually get to avoid festivities but every once in a while she likes to torture me.

“Alright, leave the poor man alone.” Matt commands them as he comes out of the bathroom fully coiffed. “He doesn’t like his birthday and we’ve got an election to win. So let’s go.”

He strides straight towards the door and we fall in line behind him. I’m glad to see him focused and driven. He’s not giving up and I’ve got his back.

. . . . . 

There really isn’t much time to focus on my birthday, thank goodness. It’s a whirlwind of campaign events that keep us hopping across the country.

Air Force One has just landed when my phone rings at the end of the night.

“Happy Birthday, mi amour.” CJ greets me. “Did all your birthday wishes come true?”

“You tell me. You know Greg Brock has the gift I really want.”

“Well, Pal O’Mine, I think you’re about to be very happy.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes. They are going to print. Get your surrogates ready for the morning shows.”

“WOOHOO!” 

Everyone else in the cabin looks up and I realize I’d better move to someplace a little more private.

“Okay, CJ, I need the details so we can work out our messaging.”

“The Times found a connection between the woman and the Sullivan campaign, whatever evidence they had convinced her that the truth was going to come out and that this was her last chance to really have her say. Turns out she’s in it for the fame and fortune, she already has a book deal and a reality show lined up. Greg convinced her that the front page of the Times in her own words would help her in that regard. She’ll end up with a whole nother round of interview requests. Apparently she really likes being on TV.”

“She’s also going to end up subpoenaed.” 

“I don’t think Greg told her that.”

“Probably not, but once she is I’ll hope she sings like a bird. Did she verify the conspiracy with Greg? Is the Times printing the allegation?”

“They’re printing the connection, but she didn’t meet directly with either Sullivan or Mitchell so they are going light on that angle. They’ll mention that the FBI won’t confirm or deny that they are investigating due to long-standing rules designed to protect elections. They also will print the Sullivan Campaign’s statement that it has no knowledge of any conspiracy and that the staffer has resigned.”

“I hope they print the denial on the to be continued page.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“Okay, is there anything else you can tell me? I’ll be going straight into a strategy meeting after this.”

“Just a bit of advice, from an old press secretary?”

“Absolutely.”

“Less is more. Santos doesn’t know the details. There is no reason for him to know the details. He gives one statement that reiterates that as he’s said all along, he has always been faithful to his wife and he’s always been faithful to this country. And then he pivots to the topic of the day. Let the surrogates carry the water.”

“Okay, thanks for the advice, I’ll pass it along.”

“Sure thing. Go get ‘em, tiger. We’re counting on you.”

“No pressure.”

“Ha!” CJ laughs, “if you were looking for no pressure you sure did go into the wrong field.”

“Right. Thanks again, give Hope kisses from us. Once this election is over we need to get together, I’ll be taking my family on a vacation, how’s California in December?”

“It can be chilly, but we’d love to have you here.”

“Maybe we’ll just stop on our way through to someplace more exotic.”

“Have Donna call me once you have some dates. Give Lulu kisses from us. I’ll send her a birthday present next week.”

“She doesn’t need anything, CJ.”

“What’s that got to do with it?”

“Right.”

. . . . .

“I need the numbers, Tonto!” I scream at myself in the bathroom mirror.

“Don’t shout!” Donna shouts from the kitchen.

“Donnnna!” I whine as I join her. “This is driving me crazy.”

“Is there any way I can get you to go to the movies for 8 hours, pumpkin patch?”

“No. But maybe you can think of another way to distract me.” I offer, slipping my hand up her shirt and fondling her breast.

“Josh. Your Mom and Lulu are going to be back any minute.”

“I can be fast.”

“Gee. That sounds lovely.” She drawls with a little smirk.

“Not as lovely as good polling numbers would be, I admit.” I pull my hand out and pace across the room and back. The wait really is driving me crazy. I hope Mom and Lulu get back soon. I don’t really like them walking to the park without me, even with an agent.

Donna watches me pace for a few minutes. “This is why Matt didn’t let you come along on the trip.”

“It was my decision. The speeches needed the Sam Seaborn touch and I didn’t want both Sam and I to be away from DC. Plus I thought we needed a couple days at home.”

“Well, I appreciate that. How much longer do you think until we hear from Joey?”

“She wanted at least 72 hours after the story broke before she started giving us preliminary internals. We probably won’t get any new outside polling until next week.”

“So . . .” Donna starts and then stops and bites her lip.

“What?”

“Do you think there’s enough time for it to make a difference?”

“I really don’t know.”


	40. Election Surprise

As I’m finishing my make-up, Josh is standing at the bathroom door, fully dressed, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“Are you ready to go yet?”

I stop and turn to look at him, lifting the eyebrow that’s above the eye that doesn't have mascara yet.

“Do I look ready?”

He studies me for a moment. “No?” He answers with uncertainty.

“Five more minutes, Josh.”

“You said that five minutes ago,” he grumbles causing me to pause again.

“You know it might go faster if you weren’t pressuring me. We have all day.”

“You know I like to go first thing!”

“You know they’re going to move us to the front of the line.”

“I don’t want to have to take cuts! I want to be there first thing.”

“Maybe you should just go ahead without me.”

“Now you’re just being mean. Plus it’s your first Presidential in DC. I wanna make sure you don’t screw it up.”

“Now  _ you’re _ the one being mean!”

“Donna, you gotta admit, you don’t have the best track record here.”

“Go away from me.”

“Okay.”

He gives me a grin before wandering off. I can’t help but smile back. I’m glad he’s able to banter with me and that he’s not completely pulling his hair out. The latest polling seems to indicate a little uptick for the President but this race is still closer than we expected. It would be foolish for me to think it’s not going to be a stressful day. So anything I can do to start it out right will help. But that doesn’t mean I’m going out before I’m fully ready.

When I come out to the kitchen Josh and Lulu are waiting for me. She looks a little sleepy, but adorable in her “Future Voter” shirt paired with a red, white and blue tutu.

Sylvia is giving Josh a little bit of a disapproving glare as he clips curlicue ribbon barrettes in her pigtails. I’m taken a bit aback. It’s unusual for her.

“She was sleeping.” Sylvia informs me.

“It’s her first Presidential election! I want her to see us vote.” Josh insists. “And it’s only a half hour before she normally wakes up.” He insists, looking to me to back him up, which I’m quick to do.

“It’ll be fine Mom. She can make up for it at nap time.”

But Sylvia isn’t completely convinced. “She hasn’t had breakfast yet either.”

“Ma! The West End Library’s at 24th and L and we’re being driven by the secret service. We’ll be back before you can even have breakfast ready.”

“You think I'm making you breakfast?” Sylvia banters back.

But Josh just gives her puppy dog eyes and she melts. “Fine. I will make pancakes for you but only because you’re such a good boy.”

“Thank you, Ima.” Josh answers dutifully flashing his dimples at her.

“Me too, Bubbe!” Lulu insists,waking up a bit more at the mention of pancakes.

“Yes, sweetheart, I will make pancakes for you and your Mama too. Now, go, save the world.”

. . . . . . . 

I have to confess, I do feel a little like a rock star as we are ushered into the Library. A surprising number of people recognize us and we are greeted enthusiastically. By the time we get inside, Josh is grinning.

“What?”

“I’ve still got a fan club.”

“Oh, Mr. Lyman, if I swallow my ballot. . .” I tease him in a fake accent.

“You’re evil.” He whispers in my ear.

“I know!”

At the table, we sign our voter cards and are handed ballots. The older lady working the table smiles at Lulu.

“Well, hello sweetheart. Are you old enough to vote?”

“Tomorrow!” Lulu tells her. “I’m three!”

“Her birthday is tomorrow.” Josh explains.

“Oh, that’s so nice.” The lady responds, handing Lulu a sticker. “Elections must be extra special for you.”

“Yes, they sure are.” Josh answers, giving me a quick, dimpled grin.

Josh takes Lulu into the voting booth with him, of course. I can’t really hear what he’s saying but I can hear the low murmur of him talking to her. He’s probably explaining each of the ballot initiatives in detail. This could take a while.

After I finish voting, I double check my ballot carefully. I certainly don’t want to make a mistake again. I think you can only get away with that once in a lifetime.

And it feels like a lifetime ago, eight years. So much has happened since then. Some of it was very painful, but I wouldn’t trade any of it away if it meant that I wouldn’t be right here, right now, waiting for Josh and our daughter.

When they emerge, Lulu shouts across the room. “Mama! We voted!”

Josh’s face lights up and there is some collective laughter from those still waiting in line. There are a few phones being held up too, and it occurs to me that this, like everything else we do in public, could end up in the news. 

. . . .. 

Mom seems to have completely forgiven Josh, and has a feast laid out by the time we return to the Brownstone. As I get Lulu situated, he gives his Mom a quick squeeze and peck on the cheek.

“Thanks, Mom. For Breakfast. For being here, and for everything. You’ve really made our lives a lot easier.”

“Oh, posh!” His Mom replies, blushing but smiling contentedly.

“You mailed your ballot already? Right?”

“Yes, Joshua!” She laughs.

She’s just lucky he doesn’t make her go down to the senior center and drum up votes, last time he made an intern ride the elevator at the hotel for hours. But we’re in DC and we know the District is going for the President, so I suppose it doesn’t matter.

Still, it’s nice to see him relatively calm, enjoying breakfast with his family, even while our whole future hangs in the balance. 

When we are finished, Josh is ready to get to the office. He’s got Matt and Helen voting in Houston in about an hour, they’ll create as much hay as they can with that before they fly back here.

Vice-President Baker is voting around 11, in Pennsylvania, so that they don’t overlap. He and Mrs. Baker will also give some interviews. Josh and Amy aren’t wasting election day. They've got surrogates ready to continue to get out the vote.

By the time I’m ready to go, Josh is back to pacing in the living room, Lulu in his arms. I appreciate that he’s trying to remain calm but I know he really wants to be in the office with his staff around him where he can get minute by minute updates. It’s going to be a close race. It could be a long night.

. . . . . . 

The first round of exits come near 11. I’m pleased when Amy calls me with an update, so I don’t have to go to the war room. We've got leads in places we’d expect, but Democrats vote early. 

Still, when I talk to Helen. they are in a good mood. I don’t want to get ahead of ourselves but I’d rather have them happy. I’ll be glad when they’re back in about a few hours.

Before lunch I find myself wandering the halls aimlessly. There really isn’t anything to do. I’m tempted to find Josh, but since he’s not hounding me, he probably is actually working. I end up down in our old office. Sam has a scowl on his face as he types on his laptop. Then, after a minute he looks up. When he sees me he smiles brightly.

“Hi Donna!” He beckons me in.

“Hi, Sam. What are you working on?”

“The Concession speech.”

My heart drops. I thought the numbers were good. Does he know something I don’t? Are we about to be out of work? We still have so much to do. I’m not ready.

Sam takes one look at my face and gives me a little smile. “Oh no, Donna! It’s nothing. We always write one. You knew that.”

“Oh, I guess. I mean, I didn’t know that from the Bartlet years, but I guess I remember that Otto wrote one last time. Actually, he wrote like four or five of them. I guess I just thought they were hazing him.”

Sam chuckles. “No. They weren’t just hazing him. Unless they made him go out in the cold and turn around three times and curse and spit.”

. . . . . 

The 1:30 exit numbers still show the President with a small lead. I’m looking at some of the district breakdowns in the battleground states and I like what I’m seeing, but I’m not an expert and I don’t want to get my hopes too high.

But when Josh pops into my office he’s smiling. That makes me feel good.

“Hey, I’m heading to the portico, the motorcade is going to be here in a minute. Wanna come with me?”

“Of course!” 

I pop up out of my seat and make my way to the door, giving him a quick kiss when I reach him. His smile gets even bigger as he let’s me pass by and he falls in beside me, his hand resting lightly on my back.

“I’m so glad we get to do that now.” He declares..

“Me too.” I reassure him, as if he needs it. “Hey Karen. We’re going down to meet the motorcade. If I’m not back in fifteen minutes, I’ll probably be in the residence.”

“Okay, Donna.”

“Did you eat lunch?” Josh asks as we walk down the hall.

“No. That breakfast was pretty big. I wasn’t really hungry. Did you eat?”

“Margaret made me.”

“Good.”

“How come my assistant gets to practically force feed me but you get to skip meals?”

“Because I’m a grown up.”

“Hey!” Josh whines, adorably.

“Seriously, Josh. I didn’t forget to eat. I just wasn’t hungry, yet.”

“I don’t . . .” He leaves the sentence unfinished as I raise an eyebrow at him and pierce him with a look. We both know that he sometimes does forget to eat.

“Okay, but I’m a lot better about it now.”

“Yes you are. Let’s plan an early dinner with Lulu and Mom. Maybe 5 O’clock. That’ll give us time to look at the 4pm exit polling and kill some time between then and when the polls start to close.”

“That sounds great.”

We hit the front of the building just as the limo pulls up. As Matt and Helen climb out, the rest of the staff piles out from the SUVs behind them. Ashley is laughing at something Annabeth said. I’m glad I sent her on this trip. She shouldn’t have to stay in the office all the time. I remember what it’s like to want to get to travel.

“Donna!” Helen greets me. “Did you like our coverage?”

“Yes. You looked fantastic. And the sound bite about how our children’s education is on the ballot was perfect.”

“Honey, I’m going into the office for a little while.” Matt tells her, pulling her in for a quick smooch. “Thanks for voting for me.”

Josh gives me a quick peck on the cheek before he and Matt stride down the hallway. Helen watches him go.

“I really hope we win.” She admits when she turns back to me. “He shouldn’t lose just because the other side plays dirty.”

“I know.” 

I’d like to give her more reassurance than that, but I can’t. The thought of losing to a party that cheats makes me nutso. I can barely stand to think about it. I’m really not sure what we’ll do if that happens. I think I want to leave this town. Take my family and go make a life far away from this place. But on the other hand, if we don’t stay and fight, who will keep them from destroying our entire democracy?

Ashley and Annabeth are standing by, waiting for instructions.

“We’ll have staff at 4. To go over plans for tonight and the latest exits.”

“Okay.” They agree and head back towards our offices.

“You’re coming up, right?” Helen asks as she walks towards the stairs.

“Unless you want family time.”

“No,” she laughs lightly. “Hopefully Josh keeps Matt distracted for a while. And the kids will probably have some homework. Let’s go make some cookies, and try not to think about how our whole future is on the line.”

. . . . . . 

The 4pm exits still have Matt in leading in the electoral college, but I know we’re all worried about the after work crowd. Democrats vote early and our lead isn’t quite as sizeable as we’d like, but Josh is still smiling as the three of us settle into the town car.

It feels a little odd to be heading home before 6 but Sylvia is going to have dinner ready for us, and we’ll watch some of the network coverage and give Lulu a bath before we come back to the White House, hopefully for a victory celebration.

It makes me nervous to even think about it.

“You’re not nearly as crazy as I expected.” I inform Josh as he finishes buckling Lulu and tells Dave that we’re ready.

He just grins at me. “Do you want me to have a nutty?” He teases.

“I don’t know.” I tell him honestly, “when I’m dealing with your nutty it distracts me from having one myself.”

Josh throws his head back and laughs, god, it’s a great sound. And when Lulu joins in even though she has no idea why he’s laughing, I find myself grinning like a loon.

“Well,” he offers, still chuckling, “I’m enjoying this feeling that my whole world doesn’t depend on what happens tonight, but I live to serve you, so if you decide you need me to go cocoa-bananas, just let me know.”

. . . . . 

Josh is still mellow after dinner when we’re on our way back to the White House even though we really don’t have any new information. The networks are reporting the same polling as what we got at 4pm.

In fact, he’s humming.

“You’re looking at me funny.” He announces, leaning over and giving me a quick kiss.

“I’m just confused! You’ve been working so hard on this campaign, especially trying to clear Matt’s name, and now you’re humming! It’s like it almost doesn’t matter to you?!? You want to win, right?”

“Of course I want to win. Matt is way better than Sullivan! And we’ve still got a lot to do!”

I’m relieved when his voice goes up and he gestures wildly. There’s the spark that I’ve been missing.

He notices my smirk and grins. But then it melts away and he gently regards me with his warm brown eyes.

“But . . .” he continues softly. “It doesn’t matter as much anymore. Now that I know that I’ll still have a life, even if we don’t win.”

. . . . . . . .

When we get to the war room on the third floor, the networks have started to make predictions based on the polls that closed at 7pm. The mood of the room is somber as they call Georgia, Indiana, and Kentucky for Sullivan. Amy colors those states in red and tallys 35 points into Sullivan’s column. Georgia and Kentucky were expected, but I had hopes for Indiana. I also hoped that we would be able to quickly add Ohio and Virginia into our column, but I guess not. While we’re watching, the West Virginia polls close and they immediately call his home state for Sullivan. 

Everyone lets out a breath as they call Vermont for Santos. At least we’ve got some points on the board.

“It’s still really early.” Josh reminds everyone as he stands and takes my hand. “Don’t worry about it.”

As soon as we’re out of the war room, I pause for a second, looking at him carefully. “Really?”

“Really.”

With his reassurance I’m able to smile as we walk into the den where the first family has gathered to watch the returns. 

The T.V. is on but the volume is too low to hear, especially over the sound of laughter as Matt, Helen, and Miranda play Twister.

“Well,” Josh grins at them, “this is one way to pass the time I suppose.”

“Left hand, green” Peter calls out from his spot on the couch. Then his phone beeps. He looks at it and smiles before popping up and handing Josh the spinner.

“Tell Carly we said ‘hi!’” Helen shouts after him as he sprints out of the room.

“Um, getting sore here, Josh.” Matt laments. “Can you help me out?”

“Sure.” Josh flips the arrow. “Right foot, blue.” 

“Now that’s a color I like to hear.” Matt quips.

“Come on, Donna, join us.” Helen suggests. I’m tempted for a minute, but I didn’t really plan for physical activity. I want to look nice in case I’m in any photos.

“I’ll just watch thanks. I wish I had a camera. Someday someone is going to ask me about tonight.”

Matt gives a hearty laugh before collapsing on the plastic sheet and taking Helen down with him.

“I win!” Miranda declares in glee. I’m pretty sure that was a foregone conclusion.

“I’m going to get a victory snack.” She announces.

Movement on the t.v. catches Josh’s eye.

“It’s 8.” He announces.

Helen gets up, saunters to the end table and grabs the remote, turning the volume up.

“As more polls begin to close, we’re ready to make more predictions.” The announcer intones.

Within fifteen minutes he’s announced Alabama, Arkansas, Missouri, and Oklahoma for Sullivan and pretty much all of the New England States for Santos.

“Some of those places still have people in lines.” Josh grumbles, “calling elections this early is practically criminal.”

“They do seem to be calling things earlier this year, don’t they?” Helen asks in a concerned voice.

“On a state by state level, it’s not as close an election this year. That makes it easier for them to make earlier predictions. It’s the electoral college that we care about.”

We all watch as they show a map with the tally so far. Sullivan- 92, Santos- 76. Helen chews on her lip a little. I know her well enough to know that she wants to ask if we’re going to win.

“Helen, none of the big states have been called yet. Ohio, Illinois, Pennsylvania, Florida.”

“That means the races are closer there, though, right?”

“Yes, and counting takes longer because they’re bigger.” Josh reassures her. “We’re still in good shape.”

“We’re going back to check in with Amy. We’ll be back before they start making predictions after the 9 o’clock polls close. Do you need anything?” I inquire as we make our way to the door.

“Let’s go get some ice cream with Miranda.” Matt suggests, taking Helen’s hand. If he’s worried he’s doing a good job of hiding it.

. . . . 

Josh is studying the exit data intently across the room, so I slide up behind him.

“Your face is frozen in an odd way.”

He breaks into a wide smile before giving me his line. “Unattractively?”

“Not at all.” I reply, twisting him around and planting a quick kiss on him.

“That’s not how that’s supposed to go.” He whines good naturedly. “I was hoping for a walk or something.”

“Josh! We don’t have time for that before 9.”

“Well, hopefully we’ll have something to celebrate.”

Thirty minutes later, we’re halfway down the stairs when we hear cheering from both floors.

“Texas.” We both exclaim at the same time.

“Jinx. You owe me a coke.” Josh promptly asserts.

“Just a coke?” I respond sassily, “you’re too easy.”

Sure enough, as soon as we walk into the living room, Miranda yells “we won Texas!” Peter, Helen and Matt are all grinning.

We knew they would. His popularity never really took a hit in Texas throughout this whole thing.

“We have breaking news.” Wolf Blitzer announces from the television. “We are now ready to call three more states. New York, Colorado, and Illinois, all for President Matthew Santos. And we predict that Governor Sullivan will carry Kansas, Louisiana, North and South Dakota, and Wyoming. That brings the totals to 172 for the incumbent and 120 for the challenger; both still have a long way to go to reach the 270 votes needed to win.”

“But we’re gonna win. Right, Tio Josh?” Peter asks when Wolf goes to commercial.

Matt’s eyes flash between his son and Josh. It’s a bit of a tense moment.

“We don’t like to say it out loud until it’s over, but we’re in good shape. We have more paths to victory than they do.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means when you look at the states left, we are more optimistic about winning more of them than they are. And we need to win less of the close races than they do. I don’t want you to stress about it, but there  _ is _ still a chance Sullivan could win.”

“That wouldn’t be fair!” Miranda cries out, “not after he lied about my Dad like that!”

Matt bends down and picks her up. She’s getting kinda big, but he easily holds her up, looking her right in the eyes.

“Life’s not always fair. But as long as all the people in this room still believe in me, that’s all I really need.”

“I still want you to win!” She insists, throwing her arms around his neck and burying her face in his shoulder.

I have to say, I might not be 9, but I feel the same as Miranda. I want him to win too.

The ten o’clock hour finds us sitting around the room as Chris Matthews leads off with another round of predictions. I’m mostly relieved that Miranda’s asleep on the couch and Peter is taking a shower as a bunch of states are called one after another for Sullivan: Nebraska, Iowa, Montana, Utah. When Ohio goes to Sullivan, I think we all gulp audibly. Then they announce North Carolina. It’s been close all night. When Sullivan’s picture flashes and the state turns red, Helen grabs Matt’s hand.

“168.” Josh mutters adding the numbers silently.

“We’re still ahead.” Matt states softly. But I don’t think any of us likes the 4 point margin.

“How are we feeling now?” Helen asks in a tight voice.

“I’m feeling really glad that you guys spent so much time in the Midwest. If Sullivan takes Florida, we need to carry Minnesota, Wisconsin, Michigan and Pennsylvania to offset that and Ohio.”

We sit in silence for thirty minutes with Josh flipping back and forth between the channels. Colorado and New Mexico are called for Matt, along with Nevada. But none of those are the close states we’re waiting on. I’m wondering if one of us should go down and check in with Amy, but I guess she knows where to find us if there’s something to report. 

Really, we just have to wait on the counting.

Finally, the breaking news jingle goes off, and Wolf interrupts whoever is droning on.” Michigan and it’s 10 electoral votes will go to President Matthew Santos.”

After that the dominoes fall, the blue wall holds and Matt carries Wisconsin and Minnesota as well. Josh lets out a loud “whoop!” When Pennsylvania goes our way. I’m sure that the Vice-President and Mrs. Baker are greatly relieved.

Speaking of which, I wonder when we need to get them over here. California will put us over. Matt didn’t carry it last time, but Ray Sullivan isn’t Vinick, and Matt has maintained a healthy lead in the polls this whole time. California will be coming home to the Democratic party tonight. I feel like I can breathe.

Within minutes of the polls closing at 11, CNN places California and its 55 electoral college votes in the blue column and predicts that President Santos has been re-elected.

Shortly after that the cell phone in Josh’s pocket rings. He grins at Matt as he answers.

“Josh Lyman.”

“Yes, Governor, he’s right here.”

Josh hands the phone to Matt.

“Hi Ray. Yes. . . . Well, thank you. . . . I agree, It’s important to unite the Country.. . . Well, okay. Thank you for that. . . . Good evening.”

Matt shakes his head as he closes the phone and hands it back to Josh. I’m not quite sure what the gesture means, and apparently neither does Josh because he finally just blurts out--

“Well? Did he concede?”

“Oh! Sorry. Yeah.” Matt offers a bit sheepishly. “It started out typically, but then he felt the need to tell me that he didn’t know anything about the conspiracy, and he promised that he’d get to the bottom of it.”

Josh sneers. “I think we’ll leave that to the FBI, thank you very much.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” Matt laughs.

“Well, are you ready?” Josh addresses them with a triumphant smile, “it’s time for a victory speech.”

. . . . . . 

It’s after 2 am when we finally crawl into bed. I’m exhausted, but still buzzing a little, so I don’t mind at all when Josh pulls me close and starts sliding the silk negligee up my body.

“I don’t know why you bothered to put this on.” He mumbles into my neck before gently sucking on the pulse point at its base.

“Because I know you like to take it off me.” I whisper back in the dark, working my hands into his hair and massaging his scalp.

“Yeah, that’s good.” He sighs, and I’m not sure if he means the opportunity to remove my clothes or what I’m doing to his head.

But it doesn’t matter. Words don’t matter. Just being together that’s what matters. 

Consummating our bond. Celebrating our accomplishment. Loving each other. Making it through one more campaign.

. . . . .  


** 6 weeks later**

Our flight leaves in less than 2 hours and I’m not fully packed yet, how has this become my life? At least all I have to do is pack our toiletries. Josh would be fine just using the freebies at the resort, but Lulu and I need our own stuff.

Trying to move quickly, I yank open the cupboard, and then time seems to freeze as I stare at a pink Playtex box. My head starts to spin as I try to remember the last time I had my period. It was before the election. Before Josh’s birthday. Early-October? Eight weeks ago.

Holy shit.

Shoving the boxes aside, I search for a pregnancy test. I’m pretty sure there’s one left in a two pack I bought back in the Spring when we were trying a little harder and keeping track of things a little better. 

I’m relieved when I locate it. 

I’m tempted to call Josh in to watch me pee on the stick, but that’s gross. And I don’t want to get his hopes up. If I’m not pregnant we’ll be starting this vacation on a low note, and he doesn’t deserve that, not after everything he’s just been through.

Once I’m done, I put the cap back on, set it on the counter and wash my hands. Then I finish packing while I wait the longest 3 minutes of my life.

I’m almost scared to look, but when I do a big pink plus is staring back at me.

Oh my god. We’re going to have a baby. I can’t wait to surprise Josh.


End file.
